


Intermissions

by izumi_kamikura



Category: Homestuck
Genre: New York, Yaoi, fourchords - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izumi_kamikura/pseuds/izumi_kamikura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>humanstuck! Karkat leaves his Manhattan home for a safer alternative away from his father only to end up with a juggalo of a roommate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Your name was Karkat Vantas and it was now that you were feeling exceptionally dumbfounded if not incredibly astonished. Yes, you had screwed up and now was no big exception. At least this time it seemed you were going to have an awful hard time weaseling yourself out of this certain dilemma. You sighed deeply, exhaling a visible puff of vapor into the frosty Manhattan air while you adjusted the loose strap of your duffle bag on your shoulder. You looked down once more at the scrap of paper with the hastily scribbled address written across it that you desperately clutched your quivering hand.

Gog, it was like the frozen fucking tundra out here! Well what had you expected? It was the middle of November in as far north as you cared to journey in the U.S. of A. and you stood out in the glacial frigid night in no more than skinny jeans and a hoodie that couldn't keep you from trembling in your red hightops. That only reminded you of how screwed you were right now. And why was that?

You glance back up from the address and allowed your copper yet crimson flecked eyes to skim the shabby apartment complex before you. You honestly weren't entirely sure what to make of the unpleasant brick that seemed to be an aspiring disaster rutted with a dingy fire escape and pathetic barred windows on the three story building. Well. No place like home.

You bit now on your lip to keep it from shivering while the thoughts flooded your mind about the cause of such a sudden change of location. You supposed you should have seen it coming though; your short-tempered and drunken father finally becoming more than just unmercifully violent. You were sickened by the thought and closed your eyes momentarily, wishing the disconcerting notions from your mind. After a deep breath you were ready to forget about leaving home in Harlem and scrapping the precious saved money from the shoebox under your mattress that you'd earned doing odd jobs and what not only to realize that you would only have enough to float you for a couple months.

So what had you done? Escaped to the other side of Manhattan and found a cheap room after research at an internet café where you could at least reside for a while. Until your dad cooled off or until your older brother found you and brutally dragged you back "home". It would never be home and never had been since your mother had died. But you inhaled a shaky breath to calm yourself; to push the tears that threatened in your eyes while bring the back of your hand from your hoodie pocket to wipe across your runny nose.

You shoved your hands down back deep into your jeans pockets and headed for the paint chipped door, head down and converse clad feet shuffling on the marshy street. You irritably remembered that it had been a downpour of a slushy mixture of ice and rain earlier as you huddled deep in your uncomfortable seat on the bus after taking a metro and walking a few blocks. It made the temperature and voyage even more formidable. Yet you still attempted not to slip as you reluctantly treaded up the steps and knocked hesitantly on that same dull colored door with a white boney knuckled fist. You couldn't really distinguish the exact color in the dim orange streetlight but all those thoughts left you as the alarming sounds of someone approaching the door on the other side jolted you from your thoughts.

You stared baffled as the door cracked open a bit to reveal a skeptical looking figure behind the opening in the door that was restrained by a rusty chain on the inside. "What the fuck do you want?" The balding man grunted while narrowing his cloudy eyes at you. Well you actually wondered if he could actually see you to begin with and after waving a tentative hand in his field of vision your studious notion was confirmed. Still you hastily replied through chattering teeth. "I called earlier." You drew a breath and resisted a devious sneeze before continuing. "About a sharing a loft on the third floor." You bit your lip again and vehemently tried to keep the torrent of curses from escaping your chapped lips as he seemed to mull it over before without warning slamming the door in your face.

You flinched and stood flabbergasted at this. Where were you supposed to go now! For fucks sake if you didn't get decent heating in the next five second you knew you'd freeze into a fucking Karcicle! You were absolutely about to explode from your uncontrollable need to piss and you were also extremely starving an-

"No weird shit, alright? I've already got one weird ass kid living up there. He'll be that other I meant when I said 'sharing a loft' by the way." He spat after opening the door again except this time to its full width seeing how he'd removed the subduing chain. You exhaled a deep breath of relief you didn't realize you had been holding while you hastily made your way inside. The subtle warmth of the hallway wasn't the blazingly rejuvenating furnace of heat you had wished for but it was definitely a godsend after the harsh and unforgiving cold. "eh, by the way, how old are you? I don't need any stowaways here either." The man unkindly asserted after slamming the door closed with a flourish of chilly air and sliding the locks back in place.

You weren't about to lie but you really figured you should be more safe than sorry so after a pause you replied. "eighteen." So what? Maybe you were actually only seventeen…ok so you would be in a couple months anyway. "huh, right right, how convenient; so is he." He retorted with a short bark of a laugh in disbelief while moving down the corridor, fingers skimming the aged wall as he led you to a set of stairs. "go up two floors. Second to the left." The man grunted before turning on his heel and hobbling off. You thought about saying thanks but he figured he was a bit crabbier than you cared to entertain so without another thought you bounded up the creaky stairs; two sets to be exact until you remembered you didn't have a key. The cold must have frozen your brain, you reasoned. Well you could just knock. No time to meet your new roommate than now, right?

You walked down the musky hall till, keeping to the left, you stopped short at a door with nothing more than a rusted brass knob and cloudy peek hole. There weren't even numbers or letters on the doors as you had at least expected seeing how your old apartment had such. Readying yourself you cautiously knocked on the door, hoping for the second time tonight that whoever on the other side would take pity and allow you entrance. Your hopes were answered, however not in the exact way you had initially wished.

Your eyes widened in surprise while you were fairly certain your mouth dropped open in astonishment at the sight of what-who- opened the door. He stood long and lean against the frame of the doorway, raven hair in snarls and faded jeans hanging dangerously low on his hips. But what really caught your attention (besides his lack of shirt and the package underneath you approved of) was his clown like face paint. He stood silently staring lazily at you with a lethargic expression that made you question if he was high off some dubious drug. You blinked in disbelief but collected yourself to crossly utter as impolitely as possible, "nice shirt." before realizing the awkwardness that set. Well, no use repairing pleasantries now. You wondered if he had actually heard you since he just continued to indolently stand there.

Then you watched as he cocked his head to the side and languidly replied in a slightly gravelly voice. "You're one cute as hell motherfucker, you know that?" you felt yourself blush at the way his deep voice made your heart skip a beat as he only nodded like that was an incredibly normal greeting and licked his lips yet continued to block the entrance to his-your- room. You averted your eyes from his intense gaze and found yourself rudely pushing past him to enter the toasty room. You tensed at the brief contact when you had to push past him even though he didn't seem to mind; only turned to softly close the door behind the both of you. However you had skidded to a halt about setting eyes on the contents of the room.

To begin with, the musky room was cloaked in a peaceful darkness that was only interrupted by the soft glow of a desktop computer and three or four scentless candles sitting on various surfaces in the room. Not only that but there seemed to be an assortment of clothes scattered on the floor along with, what were those things? Horns? Gog this guy was a total fucking loon! Plus you didn't see the 'loft' the asshole downstairs had assured you about. In fact the only sufficient sleeping surface you could spot was a futon that had definitely seen its better days.

"Honk." Your thoughts were interrupted by that bizarre guy leaning in behind you till he was about two fucking inches from your ear and then proceeded to utter about the most random thing you could think of that had made you practically jump out your skin and turn around only to have his outlandishly painted face inches from yours; an idle smirk lining his features. Of course you stumbled backwards in alarm and of course out of your fright you tripped on a gog damn horn. And that wouldn't be complete without you dropping your duffle bag and tumbling to the floor.

You decided that laying there sprawled on the disorganized and cluttered floor would be the more comfortable idea seeing how you were about exhausted as you could possibly be. That and the hazy dots swimming in your vision that made you give a drawn out out moan told you that even if you tried your attempts would more than likely be futile. It wasn't that you had hit your head that hard but that fact that you couldn't remember your last meal and the fact that you might even be suffering from hypothermia attributed to the fact that lying on some loopy clown guy's floor was a better idea than getting up and running for the hills.

"You ok, little motherfucker?" that same loon asked causing you to sluggishly open one eye and gaze at his new position sitting with his long legs folded Indian style by your limp form with his elbows on his knees and chin resting in his palms. He sounded genuinely concerned even though you only scowled at being called 'little'. It was one of those odd pet peeves you had. "I am not 'little' and no I'm not ok, you fuckass." You maliciously spat at him but only got more irritated when he grinned at your anger. So maybe you were kind of little…but at barely 5"5 when you were sixteen (almost seventeen) you knew you still had years to grow. Besides this guy was just freakishly tall. The old man who let you in said he was eighteen presumably but with his height you believed it. He must have been at least six feet tall and had that sinewy masculine that made you swoon.

"well," he began with a sigh that included stopping to poke you in the cheek with a black fingernail, something that made you cringe at the slight way your empty stomach flopped. "do I know you?" he finished with another poke to your rosy cheek that you were barely able to swat away with a still quivering hand. You swallowed and tried to sit up but only succeeded in making those black swimming dots consume your vision further as you clutched your head between your palms with another moan. But you still replied, not wanting to seem weak like always. "No. the asshole who owns this shitty place said I was going to share a loft when I asked for a fucking room, uh, and I'm…" You drew a shaky breath at the sight of his unchanged expression before whispering your name through quivering lips. "Karkat…Vantas."

You close your eyes and was just about to consider returning back to the floor before that clowny ass idiot picked you up. Literally just scooped you up like it was the most naturally thing to do with highly impolite strangers whom had barged into your home without a reason or excuse. Your stomach fluttered and you relaxed slightly at the astounding comfort you found in this strangers arms. You didn't even know his name and here he was, one arm under your knees the behind your back as his steps carried you to the futon you had seen earlier.

For the slightest moment you panicked, nails digging in to his still bare chest and giving a frightened gasp once you realized what he might do. That was just the thing; you really had no idea about this strange teen and yet even before he gently laid you down on the cushioned futon there was that part of you that knew he wasn't like…like that. "The names Gamzee motherfucking Makara by the way there, Kar-bro." He leaned in close to say so you'd have to look him in the eyes and quite frankly that made you blush even deeper as he stayed leaning over you on the sofa with one hand grasping the metal of its back while he kept a knee on the cushioned surface at your hip and lastly his other hand firmly gripping the arm rest at your head.

You were trapped and any reasoning that had told you he was marginally safe evaporated with all the air in your lungs. It wasn't like you would be able to fight him if he decided what he wanted from you tonight as you laid there, eyes wide and afraid as you balled the fabric of the sheets in your fists. "Gamzee?" you spoke finally after what seemed like forever, only to watched as he moved his other leg to now be straddling your hips something that made you swallow past the lump in your throat. You flinched when he once again poked you in the cheek with a digit that had previously been gripping the back of the futon. He still had you barred in. Except now he was sitting on you too.

"hhhhmm?" the clown sighed in reply for a ridiculously extended amount of time. You opened your mouth to say something but stopped when his fingers found your dark hair and you sadly failed to resist the arising urge to release a satisfying moan at the way he slowly ran the lengthy digits of his hand through you disheveled hair. He chuckled at the sound of your pleasure and adjusted his hips on yours; that or he was considering grinding on you. You couldn't say that would of come as a surprise.

But you had to stay focused and only reached a hand up to grip the wrist that owned the fingers that had decided to begin massaging your scalp in a way that had goose bumps and the hair on your arms rising as well as another problem you'd rather not discuss. He leaned forward even further and you closed your eyes to avoid his gaze as he watch the way you reacted to feeling his 'weight shift' once more. Despite the fact that he hooked a finger through one of your belt loops but then decided to move his curious hand up you actually wonder for the slightest moment if you really wanted to put a stop to it. His face was inches from yours and you could feel his warm breath lightly smoothing over your skin as he took great interest in your jaw line before hovering at your ear. "Kar-bro…?" he whispered and you bit your lip to keep from flat out yelling at him that you wanted him to fuc-

"what?" you growled while you realized your hands had wondered to his sides and now your fingernails were digging into his skin hard enough to make your fingers white. "that motherfucking hurts." He spoke again except this time his lips skimmed your jaw and you opened your eyes to see him tilting his head slightly while giving you a quizzical look. But the warm texture of his prodding fingers at the sensitive flesh of your side, right under your rib cage, had you choking out fuming reply. "g-get off me." You choked out and tried to wriggling out from underneath him even though your pathetic attempts were fruitless. Besides, you knew that when you had told him to get off you that you hadn't imagined the way your lips brushed his.

So you really weren't surprised when he lightly pressed his lips to yours. He was teasing you when he just as quickly removed them and smirked at you. To be honest you couldn't really call that a kiss. Before it went any further you opened your mouth to repeat your command except he took advantage of your opened mouth. You gasped against his mouth when he moved his lips with yours. Softly at first then without warning forcefully letting his tongue dance with yours in a way that had trying to pull him down closer to you while he moved his hips in slow circles. You were moving to wrap your legs around his waist while the hand he had under your hoodie explored the expanse of your chest and push it up just enough that the bare skin of both your chest were sliding against each other.

And then suddenly that was that.

"sure thing." Gamzee hesitantly uttered and then swiftly sat up to remove his weight from your hips. You heard yourself catch your breath and the feeble springs of the futon creak as his collected himself and began to walk somewhere you like entirely nothing had just happened. You blinked a couple times to clear the thoughts (all of them) from your muddled head as he returned with two bottles of soda. You wondered what the fuck that red liquid was. You'd never even heard of Faygo yet he still thrust the bottle into your hands and plopped down at the space at the end of the sofa. He propped his feet on the coffee table in front of the futon while twisting the cap off the redpop and taking a gulp of the soda.

You only stared in disbelief. What the fuck was with this guy! One minute he's practically grinding on you- or had that been you? – and the next he's taking a fucking water break like he hadn't just sexually assaulted you on disgusting futon! Except you also wondered if it could be called sexual assault since it might have been consensual.

You took a deep breath to try and calm yourself while you hurriedly twisted off the cap on your soda. You couldn't care less what type of beverage it was, you were dying of thirst. At least you hadn't cared until you took a sip of the sweet soda and almost spit it back out. Gog! It was the most horrid thing to ever of passed between your lips! And yet the clown at the end of the couch seemed to have already finished his bottle and was now untying your red converse.

"hey, quick that you-" you stopped when he pulled off your shoe and threw it over to the area behind you were your figured your duffle bag was. You were baffled by the fact that he was actually chuckling at your feet as he unlaced your left shoe and then proceeded to do the same as with the right. "what?" you asked a little bit too harshly for the situation yet you guessed why we was laughing. "What are you? Sixteen? And you wear a motherfucking size ten." He grinned at your annoyed expression before he quickly leaned forward to grab the bottle out of your hands.

But this guy obviously had an issue with respecting people's personal space because he practically climbed back on top of you again without ever breaking eye contact with you. His knee dug into your hip and you tensed when he reached for the bottle. Something that made your stomach drop to your toes for about the eighth time since you'd gotten there. And yet he returned to his position on the futon and you watched as he finished your soda, staring absently out the barred window as he did so.

You were back to not caring about your situation. In fact, you were scaring yourself by how relaxed this juggalo was beginning to make you and how comfortable you were feeling around him. But maybe those were thoughts to be pondered over tomorrow? Because right about now you could feel yourself floating into unconsciousness. A part of you even wished more than anything that when you woke up, that this wasn't in fact a dream but your own sweet reality you had been searching for.


	2. Blatant Astonishment

"Kaaarrrr-bbrrooo…?" the ludicrously lengthened way he had been sighing at you like that to at least attempt to wake you up was entirely preposterous but highly effective. You groaned and groggily opened your eyes while shifting on the strangely comfortable daybed. At first you didn't exactly remember where you were and how the hell you had gotten there. "Whoa, where the fuck am-" you gasped after suddenly sitting upright, wide eyed and clawing at the fabric of the blanket covering you.

Never the less you slowly began to recall everything. And when you say everything you meant everything. What had you been thinking? Doing that with some random stranger! That was the point wasn't it? You hadn't been thinking! And now you looked over to see that same jester sitting cross-legged on the floor beside your position lying on the futon. Except he was also munching on a pop tart and watching you sleep. Or really trying to wake you up so you couldn't exactly deem him a disturbed creeper whom enjoyed observing your slumber.

"What the fuck, Gamzee?" you groaned while putting a hand to your head. Gog you had the absolute worst headache that wasn't helped by the fact that the light streaming in from the windows and the insignificant sliding glass door that was now uncloaked by darkening shades. You brought a hand to your face and hurriedly rubbed at your eyes with the back of it. You decided to ignore the juggalo currently reaching for his fifth pop tart that waited on the coffee table beside him.

"Well since you all up and got your motherfucking wake on," he paused to rip the wrapper from the pastry and take a sizable bite from it before continuing. "I'm gonna go ahead and take myself a motherfucking shower." You didn't really hear what he had said because your attention was more focused on the pop tart he then offered you. For gogs sake for hadn't eaten in what seemed like forever. In other words, the pathetic pastries didn't stand a chance. He chuckled while he collected himself from the floor only to walk from your field of vision. You quickly swiveled your head to watch him stride towards a door you hadn't noticed the night before. He was unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans as he did so, a detail that had you quickly averting your eyes.

"doesn't that fuckass understand privacy and personal space?" you mumbled out loud while bunching up the wrapper much the same way he had earlier when he had finished his. The only exception being you didn't chuck it into the floor as he had neglected but instead tossed it onto the coffee table. You groaned at the mess the place was in and how despondently visible it was now that the room was lit by sunlight and not the insufficient candles, computers, and pools of moonlight. Gog, you swore to clean it up later but entertained the thought that the asshole would probably screw it back up as soon as you'd finally tidied the inopportune mess up.

You glanced at the door Gamzee had disappeared through that was now closed with the cleansing sounds of the shower running emitting from it. For the slightest moment you thought you might have heard him singing but then with a frown of disappointment you realized it was someone at the door. You stood up, running a hand through you dark hair and shuddering at the memory of his hands doing the same. He wouldn't be able to hear the knocking and voice of someone outside, you figured as you meticulously picked your way to the door. "hhheeyy asshole open the damn door!" you jumped at the harsh tone but found yourself almost laughing at the ridiculous lisp this guy had.

Your hand gripped the doorknob and with a twist you opened the door to view the second weirdest guy you'd seen yet. "eh, who the fuck are you?" at the sight of the peculiar guy who most of been your age you couldn't resist but asking. He glared back at you from behind 3D glasses not unlike the ones they used in movie theaters. When he reached a hand up to push his weird black bangs behind his ears your attention was drawn to his even weirder hair. To be honest, you wondered if he actually styled his hair upside down with moose to keep it at that upturned angle and yet then the gravity defying way it flatten out. You cocked your head to the side and watched him as he quickly replied in that say odd lisp.

"You the new dude? Haven't seen you here before." You thought of a reply but only got side tracked when he leaned forward and reached a hand up to tentatively try and touch your cheek. You flinched back, shooting him a cynical look and closing the door just a tad bit. "Did that clown guy do that to you?" he asked again still eyeing your cheek incredulously. "I'm Sollux by the way. I live downstairs." he added then pulled his lip to the side in apprehension. "I didn't think the guy was violent but hey the asshole is about as weird as-" you interrupted him with a shake of the head that expressed your annoyance even before you rudely said, "what is it you wanted?"

You didn't exactly know why he kept talking about your cheek but you knew Gamzee hadn't done anything. Yeah besides grinding me into the couch. Well you didn't think that counted along the lines as heatedly violent and more along the lines of heatedly pleasurable. But you shook the thoughts from your head for about the hundredth time before you realized what he might be talking about. You blushed and brought a hand to your cheek. You felt how tender it was and remembered how hard your dad had punched you in the face. Maybe that's why Gamzee kept poking you there as if silently asking what had happened.

"chill out. I was just checking to see if the old man was going delusional or not." Sollux replied with genuine curiosity. Your hand tightened on the door knob while your eyes searched the hallway. You figured you were at the least relatively safe here so without a second thought you crossed your arms over your chest and spoke up. "I'm Karkat and no the clown isn't violent." You narrowed your eyes and pointed to your cheek only to angrily add. "This is why I left 'home', Sol. Not any doing on his fucking part." You tacked on the last part; enjoying the nickname almost as much as he did when he replied with his own pet name. "Good to know, KK. Need anything, just screech down the stairwell."

You watched him turn to leave while you hastily turned to close the door behind you. No. no you hadn't just glanced at his choice piece of skinny jean clad ass, no see you were wondering why he wore two different colored vans and why he wore a yellow T-shirt over his black long sleeved one or what was with his 3D shades and hairstyle an-

"Who was all up and knocking on the door Kar-bro?" Gamzee asked and for the second time scared the living shit out of you. At least this time you didn't fall backwards and trip over a horn. If anything you wanted to fall forwards towards the juggalo who stood in front of the open bathroom door in nothing but a purple towel. In some weird way the color actually suited him and as your eyes skimmed his glorious body you also realized he wasn't wearing any of his characteristic paint. "It...was, um, Sollux…" you dreamily replied a little bit more than distracted.

He watched you stutter and then smirked at the way your cheeks had lit up and how you hastily averted your eyes. You swallowed past the lump in your throat and quickly glanced around for your duffle bag as he continued to dry his chaotic raven hair on a towel he eventually allowed to drape over his head. You saw your bag and noticed that it had been moved to the end of the couch where your converse sat neatly atop it. Actually making the slightest effort to somewhat organize something seemed rather out of character for Gamzee. Of course you were immediately suspicious and rightly so.

"Did you go through my fucking bag, Gamzee?" you shot at him instantaneously and watched the way he didn't even react. You figured that at the least he would act surprised or marginally insulted by your accusation but he remained as chill as ever. In fact he just stood there and stared at you until you groaned from the absolute nuisance this was. You glared at him as you crouched by your duffle bag and hastily unzip the front pocket to retrieve your cell phone. You'd forgotten about it, and now staring at the silent black screen you were reminded why you had turned it off two days ago. Reminded in more ways than one.

You could see the ugly purple bruise on your left cheek in the reflection of the cell phones touch screen and being physically recalled to the time that you acquired that bruise made your hand reflectively move to your side where your brother had kicked you repeatedly. Then you actually wondered if that was why that stupid juggalo had been pushing your shirt off last night, to get a look at the extensive handwork of a size thirteen boot. You quickly glanced over to the spot that Gamzee had been to make sure he wasn't watching you; he was gone, no doubt dressing or readying himself for the day in the bathroom even though it was almost five in the evening. You didn't realize how long you'd slept.

With him gone you closed your eyes and for a moment and sat back against the daybed on the floor. You balled your hands into fists and ignored the sharp pain of your fingernails cutting into your palms. How could I of been such a dumbass? Trying to find your calm again would be futile so you finally gave into the consistent pain and pulled your knees up to your chest. How stupid you had been! And now everything was going to come back and haunt you too, you just knew it. The same way you knew you wouldn't be able to stop the hot tears that silently began to scream down your cheeks in distressing trails of agony. You knew you had to be quiet since Gamzee was only in the other room but once one sob broke the crisp silence another was sure to follow.

"oh gog…" you moaned with your face now buried in your own palms. To be honest, you felt like nothing more than an infinitesimal speck of deplorable dust that just couldn't evaporate into the toasty air. like you were supposed to just go away and make yourself scarce as everyone around you excepted however you were still there; a living, breathing, flesh reminder of why your mother had passed away. That was the reason you always beat yourself up and tried vehemently to torture yourself from the happiness you felt you didn't deserve. It seemed your solo drunken, abusive parent and his demon spawn of an older son were what also helped you complete your task of sapping all the pleasure you knew wasn't meant for you.

That didn't mean you were suicidal though. You had fled like the coward you were from your home in hopes of escaping, if only for a moment, the incessantly nonstop violence. Yet now here you sat; alone crying like a weak little baby over something you had caused yourself. "Karkat stop it. All this gloom gets a motherfucker miserable." You would have jumped from the sound of Gamzee's voice suddenly beside you but right about now you were beyond caring. You only wanted to shrink back into one of the many cracks in the barren walls of his apartment and simply disappear. However you couldn't do that. Knew he wouldn't let you even before he generously offered his own solace.

His arms wrapped around you even though you didn't struggle against him pulling you into his lap. You noticed he was actually wearing clothes this time; more faded jeans and some random T-shirt bearing the name of some arbitrary band. You could smell that cheap sandalwood soap you guessed he used as you balled your fist up in his shirt and used the other to violently rub at your eyes. He wasn't supposed to see you cry or comfort you! No one was…

Gamz?" you croaked out while you buried your face into the hollow of his neck. He didn't answer you, just continued to stroke your spine while the fingers of his opposite hand twirled the hem of your T-shirt under your hoodie. For a moment you stayed quiet and to your blatant astonishment you could hear how his heart was beating low but quick. You fervently needed some way to divert your thoughts at the moment. Lucky for you the perfect opportunity was right here.

Trying to distract your thoughts was easier than you had originally presumed once you built up the courage to carry out your plan. You moved a bit sluggishly, wiping the tears from your eyes as you did so, and turned to straddle his lap. For once you felt triumph seeing the surprised look on his face and the astonished way he only griped your hips while you hurriedly unbuckled his belt. You swallowed the rising nervousness and only smirked at the way his breath caught in his throat when you successfully buttoned his jeans. "Kar-bro, I don't think that's a good id-" you silenced him by forcing your mouth over his rougher than you had meant to before pulling away with a stereotypical 'smack' sound that only made you tug at the hem of his shirt more heatedly.

After you had discarded his shirt somewhere behind the both of you, you hastily slipped your hoodie off over your head. You were still wearing your casual black T-shirt when you leaned forward to force his mouth open and kiss him so intensely that the snarl that forced its way from your throat was only fitting for the firm mouths and tongues that found new use of one another. It slightly annoyed you that he wasn't helping you take your clothes off. In fact if anything all he did was kiss back and massage your hips a bit. You untangled your fingers from his damp hair and reached down to unbutton your jeans, the sound of the zipper getting lost in your labor breathing and occasional moan.

Then the fact that he was so…so unresponsive made you absolutely furious! No you weren't bipolar, by the way. "Damnit Gamzee!" you yelled when you pulled away to get a look at his unchanged expression. He stared back and it took one look in his eyes for you to realize he was seriously restraining himself. He narrowed his eyes and spoke in a tone you might have misjudged as anger. "Karkat. It isn't a good motherfucking idea." You blinked in disclosure and searched for the right words as your anger began to build. At least this had gotten your mind off if, just not with the exact same effects you had hoped for.

"Why not?" you shot back while your anger made your hands reflectively tighten their grip on his jeans. He tilted his head back against the arm rest of the futon and sighed so deeply you could practically hear the wind resonating through his chest. You considered decorating his newly exposed jaw and collarbone with nips and kisses but thought better of it when he slowly moved his head back around to be gazing at you. Or maybe it was more along the lines of what was in his gaze that held you still even though he began slowly running his hands up your sides. "When are you going all up and spill those motherfucking secrets, hm?" you blushed and felt how your expression must have turned crest fallen.

"It was just this stupid thing about my family…" you replied trying to escape his intense stare by sifting your weight and averting your eyes to a highly interesting piece of lint on the futon behind him. Except he was becoming more and more difficult to ignore now that he was leisurely lifting your shirt off to fully examine the extend of your injuries. You glance back at his painted face to gauge his reaction after the shirt slid from your body and you restrained an aching shudder at the thought of him finally removing your clothes. You weren't really self conscious of him seeing you but when you looked down at your torso and saw the mixed colors of the varying purple bruises you turned your blurring sight away.

"Kar-bro." he muttered when you began to collect yourself from his lap while rubbing at your eyes again but he locked a hand around your wrist and hooked and arm around your waist to pull you back down to him. You fell forward and shivered at the contact of your bare skin together as he wrapped his arms around your waist. It felt like he genuinely cared which made you incredulous seeing how you had just met him. And yet, he didn't seem foreign to you what so ever. You tightened your arms around his neck and still tried to push the tears back and blockade them from falling freely from your eyes. And yet you couldn't stop the sob from rising in your throat or the water building in your eyes, even though you squeezed them closed in some futile effort.

The way he was stroking your back helped your pain on two diverse ways; not only did it present the slightest bit of solace but the rhythmic way his warm hand moved across your exposed back had begun to take your mind away from things in the same manner as earlier. You shifted in his lap so that you could lightly wrap your legs around him. It seemed he was oblivious. Well until he bit your neck without even the most marginal attempt at a warning. You yelped and gave a gasp of fright while he began working on a hickie like he had done no harm. Sneaky bastard.

You tried backing up and scooting from his lap but without your knowledge he had brought his knees up, locking you in place. However now you were sitting even higher since he had taken advantage of the fact that you had shifted your weight for a moment while attempting to escape his hold. Not that it bothered you…

"How is that fucking fair?" you asked maliciously when he looked up at you from under dark eyelashes. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck and tried to ignore it when he winked at you, still holding your gaze. You narrowed your eyes at him and pursed your lips before you grinned and brought them down of his. You weren't nearly as forceful as earlier yet the intensity was still mirrored there in the way he deepened the kiss by letting his tongue visit yours. Or how he reacted when you bit his lip teasingly and by reacted you meant the unmistakable manner in which he actually moved forward and kneeled in front of you. Now you were staring up at him. Damn those dominance flips.

Your legs were still pivoted behind him while your knees framed his hips. You leaned back on your elbows waiting for him to go down on you like you knew you eventually wouldn't be able resist. Expect he just leaned forward on his elbows much like you only in the opposite direction of course. You thought he was going to start kissing you again or vice versa but he had tensed and squeezed his eyes shut like he was in pain. You took a breath to ask of his condition but he beat you to it. "We can't just motherfucking do this yet."

"Why do you keep saying that?" you answer with the annoyance clear in your tone. You tilted your head upwards and met his lips, still parted form speech. The strain moan that rumbled his chest almost gave you goose bumps if it weren't for how heated the whole ordeal was making you. You were fairly sure he could tell since the breath caught in his throat when you arched your back and lay fully on the floor. In other words; you were both the perfect position for what you really wanted.

He followed your mouth and connected the kiss again all the while hesitantly tugging at your jeans. The entire torment was driving you enormously insane with the lust you wished would be tamed and yet he seemed more suited for torturing you with it instead of merely quelling it. "You stupid fucking clown." You moaned while his lips momentarily left yours and trailed from your jaw to your collarbone, no doubt leaving a line of delightfully inflicted bruises. However he only chuckled low in his throat before moving his hands just above your hips and pushing down hard enough to make you yell out his name. Something, you noticed, was rather arousing. Well until you realized the only reason he had done that was to move your ass back into a place that wasn't threatening to your virginity.

Sneaky bastard. You thought for the second time and once again wondered why he was so determined not to do it. Hell for all you knew he might have a boyfriend or, um, girlfriend because to be honest you weren't really sure which way he'd swing. In fact you wondered if he even knew. But what you did know was that there was a horn digging into your thigh and that you were wishing that you could take this back to the comfy futon. "Does your family know your all up and crashing here?" he breathed into the hallow of your neck causing you to shiver as the warm air leapt across your skin. You contemplated telling him the truth but wondered if he or the person who owned the building would take kindly to such circumstances.

So without another thought you feigned honesty and replied. "Sure…sure, yeah they know." Gog did you suck at lying! "right." He answered with a growl that you felt in your own ribcage that was pressing against his chest. "Seeing how they- nnngg ah jegus Gamz! – were the reason I fucking left in the first place…" you trailed off; not wanting to finish your sentence as well as wondering if he was actually listening seeing how he seemed a little preoccupied with leaving as many bruises on your collarbone as you had on your torso. So inattentive that you figured you might even turn the tables while his guard was down.

It must have been the adrenaline; you told yourself, that you had been able to push him off you. The clown tumbled back to the floor with a satisfying thump while you hurriedly picked yourself from the floor, plucking your shirt from the surface you'd just collected yourself from as you went. And went where you asked? After assuring yourself that no your hips weren't popped from their sockets and no you didn't think he'd left teeth marks you teasingly sauntered towards the bathroom. "where the hell…" he trailed off as you glanced behind you to see him sitting on the floor, breathing rewardingly labored and gaze sufficiently perplexed. He watched you continue to the wash closet whose door still stood open but whose mirrors had long sense void of steam (you were astonished at how much time had passed) but before you disappeared behind the purple shower curtain, you made damn well sure he saw your jeans hit the floor.

So no. you weren't surprised when you heard that door close behind you and the shower curtain being ripped aside. But you didn't exactly expect him to shove you against the shower wall as roughly just as he didn't think you'd wrap your legs around his waist. And yet not even his strongest will power kept him from upholding his previous determination that had driven you insane earlier.


	3. Constricting Endearment

You were the first one to wake up; something that rather disappointed you. Why? Because you realized you were slowly beginning to slip back into your regular retinue. The one you had abided by for years that strictly said you were allowed no more than five hours of sleep a night no matter how tiring, energy exerting, or generally stressing the previous day had been. You never essentially had figured out why your body abided by such a peculiar rule however you always found your groggy eyes unveiling themselves to whatever lay waiting for you in the miserable realm of the conscious. Normally it would be inopportune thing to occur to you seeing how besides school you hadn't much else to busy yourself during the day. You were a rather antisocial crab, for starters.

"Gamz?" you whispered into the crisp darkness. He didn't answer though you knew he was deeply sleeping under you. Your head was resting innocently against his chest that softly rose and fell in slow shallow breathes. You groaned and tried to move your left armed out from underneath him but found it to be difficultly pinned. Your other arm you couldn't find. It was suffering so horridly from loss of blood flow that you wagered the liquid of life and essential warmth would never return back to it along with awakening the nerves in it. Therefore you reasoned it must be under him as your other one was.

He shifted his head to the side while sighing in his deep sleep and moving the arm he had wrapped around your waist. "Fucking pervert." You groaned when his hand lightly came to rest on your choice ass. Even deeply plummeting through amounting layers of unconsciousness he seemed to be just as distorted. Even if he wasn't actually consciously aware of his profane actions. Not that you really minded too much.

Oh the bright side you vaguely thought you had found your right arm. When he had moved his disturbed little noggin to the side you thought you had felt the ghost of a pressure change and figured your arm was cushioning his head. In that case you gently removed your arm from under his head and felt some sense of triumph when you quickly felt the blood returning to the once thought to be doomed lost limb. Of course then when the expected pins and needles tumbled through your arm and you grimaced at the sharp flood of discomfort in it.

You shifted your torso, attempting to sit up while untangling your legs from his. It might not of been such a difficult task had he hadn't been six fucking feet tall. You gave up. It was a better idea to merely slump back against his bare chest than to work at his pajama clothed legs. Well at least that was what you rationalized while using your only free hand to push the damp bangs from your forehead. You were thankful you had pulled on a random shirt from his floor after putting your boxers back on once you were guys...um, done.

You shudder at the thought as an aftershock of ecstasy randomly deciding to provoke a shiver at the memory of last night. It was still as fresh in your mind as the soreness in your hips and furthermore ass. The same ass that was still being assaulted by that fucking juggalo, you realized. Well since his other arm was lazily thrown over your waist and he was asleep you decided to simply let this one slide. You wondered he had neighbors and if so you also hoped they would be as lenient. Gog, that thought alone had you blushing with embarrassment and hiding your face in the crook of your arm that you had decided to rest your head on.

For the slightest most temporarily marginal moment you wondered if he actually cared for you. Then you quickly cut the thought abruptly off right there in its sentimentally disgusting tracks. Why the hell would he? It wasn't like you did either. You weren't particularly attached to anyone and had completely denied yourself that luxury ages ago. Therefore you weren't about to start now with some stupid clow-

You gave a yelp of surprise he suddenly shifted the both of you over. Well more like he pushed you to your back and then proceeded to use you as a giant body sized pillow. You had been to emerged in your deplorable thoughts to of felt him stir and tighten his arms around you. So now you were really stuck. His was lying on his side cuddled as close to you as fucking possible with one thrown over your torso and the other supporting his head. Not that that was the predominantly trying problem. Seeing how had a leg had drifted over your own and his other was wrapped around and between one of your legs.

You quelled your rising anger with deep breathes his slumber neglected to detect. He buried his face in your neck while you resisted the urge to flip your shit and push him off you. He had moved the futon into its bed position or option, whatever it was called, long before you had fallen asleep (and as you had resumed play) there. So in other words, with the wide open great plain that was this bed, why did he have to sleep on you! It wasn't like there was a lack of space or anything. On the contrary you thought that even as scarcely endangered the pillowbeasts were in this cushiony landscape, he would have been easily able to discover some comfortably appropriate mountain of blankets to curl up at the sweeping foot of.

But no. No he had to keep this unnecessary death grip on the only other fucking object in the entire bed. You groaned and rolled your eyes while you irritably crossed your arms over your subdued chest. You somewhat realized how ridiculous you were being about the whole thing. Your uncalled for overreaction was most likely due to the fact that you were less than accustomed to the such intimate treatment. It wasn't like you exactly were used to such close contact but you reasoned that you could learn; no matter how long it took you too understand this juggalo's lack of respect for your personal space.

You wished you knew what time that it was but you guess it was somewhere between four and five o'clock in the morning. You knew that normal people with normal lives would be considering waking up to ready themselves for their normal jobs. Could you ever really be like that? Doing mundane things unlike having sex with strange clowns and running away from your home and feasting on pop tarts and Ramons. Not that you were exactly complaining. But it was still so…peculiar yet relaxed, you supposed.

You sighed at the random depressing thought that mossied its way into your cranium like it owned the miserably confounded place. Closing your eyes you attempted to relax in the especially perplexing predicament you overdramatically had reacted to in an overly dramatic manner. Besides, once your anger had subsided you actually kind of found this fuckass to be kind of adorable; not that you admit that ever in a million years.

Nor would you confess to gradually shifting your weight so that you could attempt to lean into him like earlier. Of course the leisure action was registered in his unconscious state! Why wouldn't this one marginally subtle movement in relation to everything else that had happened arouse him from his presumably deep slumber? Exactly.

"Karkat…?" He mumbles against your throat while reflexively tightening his arm around your waist and nuzzling his head into your neck. You close your eyes against the thoughts threatening to assault your mind while you licked your lips to answer. Well actually you didn't exactly know how to answer so against all reason you simply replied with an inquiring moan. You wondered if he hadn't just talked in his sleep or if he was beginning to wake up. Whichever state of perception he was dwelling in didn't stop him from pulling you closer. Of course that's what you had been trying to do when your thought to be subtle attempts aroused him.

You moved to your side after he had shifted his legs and allowed you to. But he still moved a leg over your thigh even after you had righted yourself on your side and curled up against him. He casually threw an arm over your side, right at your waist, and proceeded to pull you as close as physically possible. For the first time you actually felt a little ping in somewhere in the left side of your chest when he gently pressed his lips to your forehead. When you emitted a small noise in return you thought you felt him grinning against the sensitive skin of the bridge of your nose when his lips moved down further. It astonished you when his lips found yours and molded to them. You hadn't thought he was awake enough to perceive things like that but never the less you found pleasure in it.

But an idea struck you. Not being as fatigue ridden you got your revenge by quickly deepening the kiss. You took pride in the rewarding noise of surprise he made when your tongue darted between his lips and crashed into his. You shifted your weight against his hips while you continued the escalading kiss. Just as you were reaching between the both of you to pull down his pajama bottoms you felt him pull away. "A little earlier for that, Kar-bro." he grunted when your hand brushed the inside of his thigh.

No. it wasn't too early.

You groaned and resumed kissing him a little too brashly while your curious hand inched ever to clos- "Ahh hey!" you yelled when he suddenly bit down on your lower lip hard enough to cause a sickly coppery taste to taint your mouth. Not that turned you on or anything. "Fine you fuckass." You growled after drawing back to give him an irritated look he most likely didn't see due to the darkness.

With a less than resolved sigh you mentally shook the thoughts from your head and removed your hand, slowly, painfully slowly. Yet he showed no signs of amounting torture from your tease even though you really couldn't see him through the thick veil of darkness comfortably cloaking the two of you. You actually wished that enough light would flood the room so you could get a look at his face seeing how you knew he wasn't wearing any of his ridiculous face paint.

It didn't bother you much, you lazily reasoned while you hid your face in the crook of his neck. You were extremely comfortable even though your arms were folded up against his chest and your legs were once again tangled. That and you continued to suck on your own stinging bottom lip. He seemed seconds away from drifting back to a deepening state of slumber you were coming to envy.

And yet it perplexed you how he seemed to perceive this of you and lazily pulled your shirt up to slowly began to smooth soothing circles in your bare back. You thought you could hear him snicker at the purr you started emitting low in your throat. But you couldn't really be sure since you were also fairly sure you were closer to the edge of snooze than he was now. Damn that fucking clown...


	4. Greet Your Adversary

Your fingers lightly skimmed over the endless bottles of red pop wanting for the clowns reply before you actually pursed your lips to the side and considered quenching your thirst with its deplorable taste. You groaned and tightened your grip on the refrigerator door resigned to choking down at least one bottle of it. You'd been here almost two weeks and still hadn't bought different soda. You straightened up slightly yet still remained bending over and gazing into the contents of the fridge in solid hopes that your eyes might land on something especially delighting to your fourth sense. The digits of your left hand had just wrapped around the neck of one of the disgusting bottles of Faygo when a firm hand smacked your ass hard enough to emit a yelp and adequately sudden to make you jump. An exceedingly profane string of curses erupted from your mouth when you hit your head on the top of the refrigerator because a certain hand has assaulted your posterior. "The the hell, Gamz?!" you angrily yelled turning around and wondering if you should rub your head or ass seeing how they both had been rather excluded from mercy. You rubbed your head, deciding it was in a tad more pain than your rear. A mere unfair compromise yet you still complied, however unhappy. He was standing wwaayy too close, you realized when you straightened up and turned around to glare at him. He was also giving your provoked glower a smoldering yet languid stare that made you narrow your crimson flecked eyes at him fiercely. "You aren't allowed to lay a fucking hand on my choice ass." You growled feigning malice while the corners of his lips turned up in a grin that almost, almost, provoked a smile from you. Yet you still stood defiant not taking a step forwards or backwards. Well that was, until he decided to kidnap you. "Gamzee!" you screamed when he moved a hell of a lot faster than you would of thought he could and swooped down without warning to firmly grasp your waist. You didn't even have time to call for help as he easily threw you over his shoulder with a light and amused snicker. You kicked your legs and punched at the small of his back to no avail. In fact you faintly wondered if your escape attempts were only his divine incentive to find a better grip on you. Which, of course, was your ass. Oh and thigh, couldn't leave that out right? "You dense clowny fuckass! Put me dow- aah!" you yelled and shouted profanities at him the entire time as he carried you over his shoulder. It only seemed to amuse him and provoked that gravelly laughter that made your heart race and breath quicken. "Sure thing Karbro." He lazily replied and roughly griped your thigh and the back of your hoodie before tossing you onto the daybed like you weighted nothing. The worn springs gave a creaking cry as he quickly kneeled over you trying to decide between removing your warm hoodie and roughly kissing you with a passion that made a shiver streak down your spine; hitting every single ecstasy coated cord on its descending path. He broke away, much to your disappointment, to grin at the tease you found in this. Annoyed you quickly sat up and snatched a grip on the front of his T-shirt before pulling him to you with a delighted purr. It lit a blazing heat in your midsection when his devious left hand slowly massaged the inside of your thigh while his other snaked up to the buttons of your jeans. It was enough to have you pushing him back with adequate force for an astounded gasp. You were delighted that you had taken him by disclosure and relished the look of pure surprise when you climbed on top of him. The smirk that flitted across your features didn't come close to showing your satisfaction while you splayed your fingers out across his chest and swayed your hips to the sides. You watched him swallow, gripping your waist tighter and lick his lips while your hips knocked in his knees. You sneered at him, enjoying the advantage and knowing it was killing him to not have you as his hands found their way under your hoodie. But you stopped him from taking it off you; sitting up on your knees and watching the look of disbelief morph his features as you crossed your arms over your chest. You scooted forward ever so slightly till you felt the fronts of your knees touching the backs of his thighs just to witness the impatient glare he threw your way. You winked at him before you leisurely pulling the soft fabric of your hoodie over your head and tossing it to the ground beside you. Then you figured he'd had enough so without a second thought you leaned back down and forced your mouth back over his. The moan that escaped your lips when his curious hands began massaging your lower back after pushing your shirt up was enough to make the air in his lung catch. You grinned against his lips at the congenial sound of pleasure that strained from his throat when he forced your hips down to him and pushed you to move them in deep slow circles. Then you were both back to kissing, your hands cupping his face and his still massaging your back when his tongue finally found its way to yours. It seemed like that was his breaking point. Without the subtlest warning his legs wrapped around yours and his arms locked around your waist before he pulled you completely down to him. You gasped loudly, the position forcing your hips in a painful way yet balancing it out with the fact that your junk was pressed against his. He chuckled at the way you gripped the arm rest in a conciliatory mixture of pain and pleasure. That sly bastard even tightened his legs around you even more just to hear your yelp of pain. You were fairly sure you heard you back pop a couple times too. He chuckled in return before easing the discomfort. However not in the original way you had perceived. "No fair." You hissed into his ear when he flipped the two of you over. So it was his turn now, you reasoned as he harshly pushed down on your hipbones to make you arch your back slightly into a more suitable position. You faintly wondered what had him so aroused this randomly in the evening in the first place. It was only 4 pm and you had just suggested the both of you go back to that one Chinese restaurant he had shown you a couple days ago the first moment you had gazed distastefully at the Faygo stocked fridge. Now here he was, unbuttoning the jeans you had just changed into and hurriedly pulling them down to your knees. "What isn't fair?" he asked slyly when you kicked your jeans the rest of the way off and shoved them off the futon with your heel. You only glared in an irritated reply at the juggalo who kept taking your clothes off. "Everything seems perfect mother fucking miracles to me…" he moaned into your neck and continued sucking at the sensitive flesh of your collarbone. You rolled your eyes but suddenly dug your nails into his back and tilted your head onto the arm rest of the daybed when his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your boxers to only pull them down a couple inches. "Yeah, fucking miracles. Now take your clothes off before I tear them off like some fucking wild mother grizzly protecting her starving cubs, you fuckass." You groaned clawing at his shirt and pushing it up to his shoulders. He didn't seem to hear; in fact he looked pretty preoccupied with throat. With a sigh you slowly brought your hands up and grasped two fistfuls of his hair and lightly tug at them to at least try and gather his attention. Hell it was futile and you knew from the start that he had about the most unresponsive scalp ever. Well that sounded fucking retarded… "Isn't that your job, little motherfucker?" he moaned into your ear in that low voice that resonated like a purr of bass in your ears. You swallowed against the raising shiver you felt attempting to streak down your spine for the hundredth time while he finally trailed his mouth over your jaw line, stopping at your temple. You felt his arms comfortably wrapping around you as he cradled you against his chest yet continued with a new string of kisses across your forehead ending down the bridge of your nose. It reminded you of a couple nights ago when he had done the same in a half sleep state, or so you had thought. But now was different. Substantially different, even because on this instance he complied with your need to heat things up. Just like how this instance was also interrupted unlike the previous one. "Karkat! Open this fucking door!" the gasp that ripped through your body and the chill that settled into your bones made Gamzee even pause a moment from kissing you to glance up at you. Your shocked and terrified expression that made him pull back. "Karkat?" he whispered into your hair when you buried your face in the hallow of his neck and didn't even attempt to restrain the whimper that escaped your throat. The infuriated voice was still at the door with its equally as provoked fist that pounded it hard enough to rattle the pictures on the walls. You wondered if he would gain entrance by that act alone; beating the door down in a slightly intoxicated fury, that is. "Help me…." You whimpered softly into your hiding place at the crook of his neck while his arms slowly unwrapped from around you even though you desperately grasped at his shirt. "No no don't answer it! It's my…brother." You added hearing the tremble in your own voice and absolutely hating the pathetic sound of it. He however ignored your protests and quickly collected himself from you and the daybed without another word. The springs creaked slightly but was drowned out by your futile attempts to keep him from letting your violent and infuriated brother inside. "Gamzee! I'm serious don- don't answ- Gamzee Makara listen to me you fuckass!" you hurriedly sat up and tried to snatch his T-shirt to no avail. The anger rolling off him in waves almost startled you into silence when you realized it. "I know you're in there you fucking rat! Open this god damn door!" and that's exactly what Gamzee did to your horror. Just as his fingers were about to extend and grasp the door knob while sliding the lock out of place you jumped off the couch, not caring that you were wearing nothing but a T-shirt and boxers. Or maybe you did, you realized when the thought of your brothers reaction to your homosexual relationship brought your mind to a flinching spin. It made you scramble for your jeans faster than he could get the door open but not quick enough for you to get them buttoned and zipped however. You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place when he opened the door with an infuriated force to reveal your brother in all his furious, violently brutal, glory. He was the same height as Gamzee, you noticed but with quite a bit more muscle than him. In fact you wagered he might even be twice his weight; something that made your stomach churn. Well right until the moment that your brother who had intruded upon the two of you sent a fist flying straight into Gamzee's jaw. The shout that ripped from your throat was blood curdling. So much so that even while your partner fell back from the force of the blow he still glanced over at you; still shared an appalled cringe of pain that was multiplied times ten in his eyes when his head also struck the coffee table with a sickening sound. Always concerned about your well being, eh? "Karkat! The fuck are you?!" He shouted not being able to view you from his position only inches through the door frame but the moment he had crossed the threshold and thus entered the only element of your life you currently enjoyed, you had snapped. To clarify for all those in good health and even so otherwise, you were royally pissed. And yes, you had officially flipped your shit. "Get OUT!" you screamed in a fury concentrated on him the moment you had unfroze from your petrified state and ran head long towards him. You barreled into him, arms wrapping around his midsection and moments later becoming satisfied with the whoosh of air that was the sign that you had knocked the breath out of him. You tumbled back, both of you being assaulted by gravity while he flung out his arms to gain purchase on anything to prevent his fall while releasing a steady stream of curses. Yet you still hit the ground and you even felt your vision blur when your head collided with his forehead hard enough to bust your lip. "You fucking faggot." He spat and you winced when his arms wrapped around your torso and threw you off him. No strike that; he had slammed you onto the floor beside him hard enough to make your eyes immediately go wind in blatant alarm while he swiftly moved to tower over you. You didn't really know how to fight, as sad as that sounded. You had gotten into plenty of fights with him before but you had to face it; he was five years older than you, fifty pounds heavier, and seven inches taller. It wasn't like you won the majority of those altercations. Yet you still found the will to grow ever so more rage filled with every quarrel no matter how battered and bruised it left you. And now, you had reason. There was this one shard of happiness, of pleasure and enjoyment you had found and damned if he was going to get rid and ruin this one. The fist that collided with your cheek was hard and forceful enough to send a particularly projective spray of a saliva/blood spinning into the room. You wondered if this was attributed to your busted lips or if his punch had actually done something to your teeth. With a shout you brought your arms up defensively, just in time for him to scramble up and tower over you. How did the moment your arms became your crummy facial shield tie into that, you ask? Well. Seconds after you'd done so you felt his clammy hands gripping your forearms with enough to force to surely leave digit sized bruises later. You were rather perplexed by this, not understanding his motive, but that was before he hauled you to your feet. With a grunt he released you and firmly moved to get a hold of you around your waist no matter how many curses you screamed at him or fists you pounded into his chest. You reasoned, through your blinding rage, that the struggle was rather futile. "Gamz-" You had began to scream before he picked you up, hands digging into the flesh just below your ribcage. You kicked at him, suspended from the ground and hands clawing at his while he cursed you in every single deplorably disgracing insult his pee brain could incite through legit verbal form. "Put me down you fucking asshole!" You yelled in his disgusted face before he hauled you over his shoulder like you were weightless. If it weren't for your struggling attempts you might not have fell off him. Well more like slid down his back but you felt it unnecessary to be technical about it. You arms wrapped around his waist from behind, upside down and from, while he gripped your thigh and pulled at your other leg. Gog was this fucking imbecile going to be the shitty little pathetic end of you! And that's exactly what you thought as he strode towards the door, anger multiplied in every single heavy step that jostled you while you clung desperately to his back. "You useless fucking shit. Why the fuck did I even come for your disgusting faggot ass?" He practically ground the words into your memory when the insult was accompanied by kicking Gamzee in the gut when he stomped past him. He was lying on his back, legs crumpled under him and showing no signs of life. It was enough to make your stomach heave. And even more so when he carried you out of the room and halfway down the hall, struggling and screaming all the violent profanities you knew in hopes either someone would hear or he'd put you down. You vaguely remembered which door was Sollux's from the week before when you'd been over for two days straight to participate in an exceedingly fun marathon of nonstop Xbox. Gamzee had been out, leaving while you were asleep, and hadn't returned. So you'd just stayed at Sol's. No harm there even thought his frequent sexual passes had made you cheeks rosy more than once. Yet now you vehemently wished he would hear you and offer some sort of help. The chances were slim and you knew this. He was more than likely either locked in a hacking episode, headphones blasting, or out and about stealing cell phones to tinker with later. And Gamzee was probably dead in his apartment. The thought enraged you to the point that your resolved fraught continued with a new fire that had you tumbling from his grasp successfully. You fell with a yelp and landed with a solid thump before your luck decided to properly kick you in the poignant ass. You found yourself plummeting down the stairs with each one more painful than the last. Proof things can always get worse. Always. Well at least you were on the second floor now. Even though you were lying curled up on your side clutching your midsection and wincing at the new pain in your spine, he still came after you. Face twisted into a triumph sneer and hands balled into fists as he quickly descended the stairs. When he got to your pained position at the foot of the stairs he bent over with a satisfied chuckle to grip the front of your shirt and hoist you up. His hands then wrapped around your neck and shoved you against the adjacent wall to your blatant surprise. Your knees framed his hips as he stepped closer words spitting in your face as you gasped for air. Your hands clawed at the digit of his hands that had a firm grip around your throat while you arched your back off the wall in a desperate attempt to escape his iron grip. His eyes locked with yours when a spasm went through his frame and a look of pure astonishment crossed his features. His grip on you evaporated and before you knew it you were crumbled on the ground at his feet while he turned to face his attacker. The first gasp of air you greedily inhaled was choked on and a sputtering cough erupted from your once constricted throat. Your blurred gaze traveled upwards as you angrily wiped the back of your hand across your mouth. It set on something that immediately made your eyes widen in astonishment and your mouth hang in surprise. It was Gamzee, of course. Who else? But what his weapon of choice was was enough to make you stutter a chuckle if you weren't in slight state of panic. His expression was absolutely murderess while his lip upturned in a growling snarl that was fitting for the animal like way his hands were curled around a juggling pin. He was wordless as he swung the pin with an alarmingly brutal force at your brother's head. In fact you gasped at the tremendously sickening sound it made when it connected with the side of his head. You covered your mouth with your hand and back up against the wall as he came crashing down in front of you in a completely limp fashion that made your stomach turn. Yet that didn't compare when your partner decided to turn on you. "Gamz!" you shouted at him while he kneeled down in front of you with that same murder lusting glare plastered to his positively rage filled features. He threw the pin to the ground to his right. You glanced at it while it skidded across the floor with a hallow resonating. But taking your gaze off him for even the slightest moment was about the worst idea you could have. "Karkat." He snarled in your ear, hand that had previously been clutching the pin gripping your jaw. His long fingers extended to your temple while his thumb dug painfully into the soft pallet under your chin. He slammed your head back against the wall, something that incited a gasping cry from you that was also provoked by his knee that dug into your thigh. His other hand pushed against your chest while you gripped his forearm. "Gamzee please!" you yelled watching his expression turned to an insane mixture of sadistic curiosity and feeling the hand on your face tighten. But it seemed your plea had had an effect for the most part no matter how marginal. In fact you even thought that maybe your attempts were actually making a bit more an effect on him to be honest and that notion that struck you sent a shiver of triumph done your spine. His brow furrowed, obliviously perplexed by this occurrence he'd suddenly found himself in. His bottom lip trembled slightly while his eyes widened and indigo besieged pupils dilated. His grip on you loosen just enough for you to suddenly make your move. You pushed him away; hands planted on his chest and arms supplying you with the strength to force him off you. With a swift burst of adrenaline you sprang up and, ignoring your brother, bolted for the steps. If you could just get back to the room, if you could reach your cell phone. Then who would you contact, huh? Call the police and have then drag you back to your apartment to your awaiting father? Watch them arrest Gamzee for murder? If your brother was in fact dead, that was. That was the worst possible thing that you rather thought to be true though however you hadn't really given him a second glance when you had passed him. "Kar-bro!" you heard a voice shout behind you while you raced up the stairs. But reality hit you and rather hard at that. You were short. He was tall. Very tall. He could take the steps two at a time and three as he sprinted after you whereas you had to settle with your snail's pace of one. That being said when he suddenly grabbed your shoulder and pulled you to a halt; you were ready and turned around to swing a shaking fist at him. You missed. In fact he caught your fist and instead pulled you to him in an embrace tight enough to make you gasp out a surprised yelp. His arms wrapped around you while your arms where pressed against his chest. "I'm sorry, Karkat…" he whispered into your hair while a sobs escaped your throat and you felt your eyes tearing up. No way were you going to cry in front of him! You pushed against his chest forcing him away and stumbling backwards. Your hand shot out and caught the hand rail before you could actually tumble to the stairs yet you found the will sputtering out of you as you merely let your momentum take you down till you were sitting on the step. After erasing the look of hurt from his face Gamzee crouched down and sat on the step below yours. You crossed your hands over your chest, looking away as you felt the blood warm tears stream done your face in salty trails. You felt his hands wrapping around you thighs as he laid his head in your lap, still sitting on the step below yours. His thumb smoothed circles into that spot just below the side of your knee while he buried his face in your thigh. You knew your cheeks were turning rosy yet you ignored him. "I'm sorry." He repeated, nudging knee with his hand and tightening his grip on your legs. To be honest it was a rather awkward position since he was literally hugging your legs yet you still felt comforted. No matter what insane and ludicrous fashion the solace was offer. Well at least that what you thought before he shifted his head so that his teeth could pull the helpless zipper of your jeans down. "nnggh! Gam-"


	5. One Week Prior

-ONE WEEK PRIOR-

"What the hell?! That was me asshole!" his lisp made you grin and tap that much more harder on the L4 button you knew would send your Spartan into a trigger-happy frenzy of flying bullets. And aimed where? Straight at your yellow teammate causing the screen to light up and that annoying fuckass in the background to state the obvious, 'BETRAYAL'. It was enough to enrage him and the adequate amount of staged irony to have you snickering in the triumph of your revenge.

You knew he would get even more provoked when the kill cam zoomed in extra theatrically intimate to view his traitorous demise in the most excellent way possible. "Oh pardon my blatant lack of fuck giving on the account that I'd just received, and in no more than an equivalent manner, my exquisite fan-fucking-tastic retribution. It is sweet. As sweet as fuck, may I add." And you had added it. Right after he erupted with an enraged growl and threw down his xbox controller.

You pulled your lip to the side in a mock smirk while he glowered at you from behind his 3D glasses and bared his teeth at you in a malice provoked expression. You could practically see the steam shooting from his ears and the lightening bolting from his eyes. He actually seemed to get pissed more frequently and with less provoking than you did. Which was definitely worth crediting seeing how you were now making it your soul duty to do just that.

Piss him off, that is.

"Do you even possess significant knowledge on how to play this fucking game? You don't kill your teammates and you don't commit suicide, which it seems you rather enjoy!" he yelled while throwing his hands up and exciting the party the two of you had been participating in with other teammates you now faintly heard protesting through your headset with a profane slew of childish cursing.

You were only slightly impressed he had been able to say 'possess' but since he had succeeded in saying 'accessories' earlier you weren't all that awed. You gripped your white cordless controller tighter before licking your lips to answer him.

"Did you seriously just rage quite, Sol? Oh how mature." You snickered much to his obvious enragement and clear distress. You dropped your controller then, tossing it on the ottoman and leaning back into the extraordinarily comfortable beige couch. You wiped the slight sheen of sweat from your palms onto your light grey t-shirt while he took a breath to rant right back at you.

"You know what? Fuck you, Kk." He sighed crossing his arms over his chest defiantly and glaring at you from the side of his vision crossly. You only shrugged your shoulders and stared right back at him innocently until he decided to say something. "Ugh, fuck fine! Since apparently you can't actually play a game without intentional falsities why don't we just go get lunch?"

You raised an eyebrow incredulously while stealing a quick glance at the glowing red numbers of the digital clock slightly obscured by his shoulder. Lunch? "It's 11 pm dumbass." A little late for lunch in fact you hadn't realized so much time had passed. You faintly wondered if Gamz was back yet or more importantly if he was going to come back whenever he so well damn chose to…

"So?" he replied with an air of nonchalance that was carried out when he gestured to nothing in particular before intentionally shifting so that his shoulder now obscured your entire view of the clock. Fine. Besides you were rather hungry anyway and just to emphases that point your stomach decided to give a growl of impatience right then and there. You scowled at his grin of triumph while he quickly collected himself from the couch to saunter over to the refrigerator.

His apartment was marginally different from Gamzee's you had noticed, even though they were in the same building. His was a bit larger and housed a small alcove as a bedroom. Like a loft, you thought crossly, wondering if the old man presumed the juggalo's room was identical to this one. Which it wasn't in more ways than one.

First, there were no fucking horns for you to step on at ungodly hours of the morning in the middle of the pitch darkness only to have your nerves snapped in two when they decided to expel the most tremendously deafening honk of all fucking time. Second, it was a bit more orderly, save for extension cords and spare computer or tech parts occupying various surfaces around the room. Third, his refrigerator was stocked with not faygo but honey.

Honey.

The. Fuck?

"sssoooooo Thai or Chinese?" he inquired, breaking you from your entrapping thoughts and causing you to glance over at him. Ooohh my fucking gog… your eyes trialed down the length of his lean body as he leaned back against the fridge, take out menus in hand. Grey skinny jeans; and hell fucking yes did he make those jeans cause your mouth to salivate more than the thought of the expanse of his chest now clothed under a simple long sleeved black T. He flipped through the two brochures with elegantly long fingered hands before glancing back at you from over his red and blue tinted glasses.

"Stop raping me with your eyes and answer the fucking question." He snapped however you could hear the pleased leer behind his words. It was certainly something worth exploring, right? I mean for one thing he did have a choice ass that was maybe kind of probably sort of a little bit better than Gamzee's, not that you had noticed. And besides, it wasn't like it would be cheating; per se. Gamz and you weren't exclusively dating anyway…

"Um, Chinese. I hate Thai." You replied shaking the thoughts from your head while you fingered the hem of the yellow through that had fell from the back of the couch. "Sure,Kk." He replied with a snicker at the marginal tint that had flushed your cheeks red. You ignored him although failed in concealing the slight page of irritation as you quickly stood and reached for your red hightops. Yet they weren't exactly where you thought you'd left them…

"Where the fuck are my sneakers?" you asked aloud catching his attention. You kicked a spare pillow out of your way before glancing over at him to see if he would offer any advice to where in the ever loving fuck your converse had decided to run off too. "Beside the computer desk." He offered nonchalantly without looking up from the menus but reaching a hand up to absently mindedly push a stray lock of his bangs behind one ear.

You groan rather audibly and thus commenced in trudging over to one of his five computers that sat atop his elusively uninteresting desk. Only an insane person would need so many computers. Oh and he had more too; they were just for screwing around with, not for legit technological activities and the like that could actual be useful. "oh." You sigh, spotting the red shoes seconds before you bent over and your hand pulled then away from the jaws of a treacherous extension cord, wire, cable, etc. monster.

You righted yourself turning around and getting one look at Sol's satisfied expression to know he definitely just checked out your choice ass. Oh hell no.

Hell. No.

"Excuse me?" you state defiantly while raising your eyebrows and glaring at him. "Did you seriously just check out my fucking choice ass?" you add incredulously in turn to his amused look. "yes." he simply replies with a pursed lip and shrug of the shoulders. You narrow your eyes while plopping onto the couch to tame the rowdy laces of your shoes into proper gentlemanly bows on your feet. "Fuck you." you easily retort while rolling your eyes at him.

"Anytime would be good. Later would be great, though." He answered tossing the menu onto the counter and crossing his arms over his chest again. He cocked his head to the side, seeming to mull something over before adding with a highly profane gesture that made you blush copiously. "But now would be awesome."

You sat up, palms resting on your thighs as you scowl at him from across the room. "Fine, fine! Tonight then." He finished raising his hands in mock gesture of exasperation that made your eye twitch in irritation. He however was already reaching for his cell phone that sat innocently atop the lackluster cream toned counter with a resolved sneer.

You watched his movements as he flicked his index across the screen to unlock it and then promptly punch in the restaurant's number. He then proceeded to give you a crudely irritated look that stated without words how lackadaisical he thought your pathetic laissez-faire ass to be. You frowned and shot him the most disapproving bird your annoyance could muster.

"Lo Mein and a side of Crab Rangoon. Thanks for asking, fuckass." You shot at him and were instantly rewarded with a satisfied look as he spoke into the receiver your order as well as him own with a blatant lack of interest. You could faintly here the insignificant buzz of the deceptively monotonous employee offering their half-assed service. He didn't look exceptionally captivated by this either. My Gog was he impossibly bipolar.

He hung up with a contented "cool. Be there in ten, then." to the worker while rolling his eyes and reaching for his wallet next to the basket of various useful items that held things like his cell charger, keys, amounted pocket change, screws, and zipdrives. Slipping the canary and black stripped leather into his back pocket along with his cell he glanced in your direction expectantly.

"Waiting for an open invitation, Kk?" he assumed with a characteristically amused expression that was becoming the blunt of your reaction that he was invariably nuisance to you with that little superiority complex he persistently sported like a particularly pas mal de tout pashmina. Maybe it was partially attributed to the fact that he was marginally taller than you. Or maybe you were just excessively paranoid about the three and a half inches he had on you.

"Nope. Just waiting for you to pave the fucking way, oh omnipotent leader." You interjected with a frown that matched the daggers shooting from your eyes. Not that he noticed or anything. No, he just continued on his jolly merry fucking way towards the door with the most irritating bounce in his presumptuously cocksure steps like your future destination potentially held more prospect than any other before it. You followed with a perturbed groan that conveyed just how annoying burlesque you found him that earned you a foul glower.

. .

"So kind of ludicrously ironic that you're a Cancer, huh Kk?" he positively beamed with that overly accentuated enjoyment of the fact that yes; the appalling day you just so happened to grotesquely crawl forth from the cavernous and infecund atelier that unfortunately was deemed your mothers birthing canal was in June. But no matter how fucking crabby you acted he failed to see the irony behind his own jibs.

"Says the fucking Gemini. I mean seriously, Sol. Are you introspectively incapable of processing the blatant certitude that is the heinously overlooked origin of all things exclusively ironic about you?" you spat at him while motioning to the entire length of his body with one crude sweeping gesture. He seemed oblivious to his own incongruous fault which was something that entirely irked you. That and the realization that the two of you had ceased walking and no less than two or three blocks from the apartment too.

You stood in front of him, having moved so during your rant, while he watched with a blasé expression. He loosely held the dull plastic bag that contained your as well as his dinner in those theatrically simple Chinese boxes in one hand. The other had been used to quip your attention with a rudimentary shrug that thus launched the two of you into a quarrel about you being a rat and he being a pig and how crude you found that and that the Chinese zodiac were shit and that the customary ones were better except you'd talked yourself into a hole because then he figured out you were a Cancer and that that kind of defined you but that was before you realized he was a Gemini except he failed to comprehend how that was ironic.

And thus you had ranted.

"Kk, I seriously doubt it matters." He replied to your peeved expression that practically screamed 'I want to fucking punch your lights out' with a resolved shrug. You weren't exactly certain about how to reply seeing how what came to mind was an inadequate slew of 'well this is why' and 'you know what' to emphasis your entirely valid point. You crossed your quivering arms over your chest defiantly, regretting brazenly refusing the coat he'd offered you in turn for your hoodie and glancing at his yellow scarf wrapped around his neck that complemented yet greatly contrasted his black buttoned coat. He wasn't shivering.

"Fine. whatever." You ended rubbing your hands down your arms to attempt and recapture any escaping heat. He noticed this absentminded gesture and slowly stepped forward without another thought. "Hey, you cold?" he offered gently and taking you off guard by resting his gloved hands on your forearms in a tentative motion.

At any other time with any other person you would have recoiled in disgust instantly while then wearing that mask of revulsion like a shield and braced yourself for their harsh reaction. But now was different and he was different. You almost welcomed the subtle way he pursed his thin lips and stared back at you from behind his red and blue glasses with an intense look that made your cheeks blush. And you couldn't help that he had seen this, you thought as he hastily and without another word began unbuttoning his coat with nimble pale fingers.

"Don't take your fucking coat off! You'll freeze to death you dumbass." You shot back as he slid the thick material from one shoulder and then the next after shoving the bag of Chinese into your grip. You ground your teeth strictly and remained as still as a frozen little effigy while he draped his coat around you. "Sollux, reall-" he cut you off with a shake of the head before interjecting. "We're almost there anyways so what's it matter. Besides if I fall deathly ill you can be my sexy nurse." He finished with a wink while his words released clouds of vapor into the air inches away. Gog his lips were so close…

"Nervous, Kk?" he breathed watching your cheeks blush and feeling your hands ball into fist at your sides due to how close he was standing. In fact you could just lean ever so much forward an-

"I'm cold. We should probably get going." He stated with a curt nod and promising leer. Oh, that's what he meant. Well you couldn't say you were all to staggered by his suggestion. Hell he had been making passes at you for the last two days but for once, the resolved lust in his eyes made you shiver. And it wasn't attributed to the cold.

"F-fuck…" you choked out when his arms snaked around your waist and pulled you closer till you could feel the heat rising from his body in rolling waves of desiccant warmth. But the cold was crisp and you knew the pleasant heat would soon be thieved by the brusque chill and frigid air. He smirked at you while taking the slightest step forward and forcing you to steal one back as his hips knocked into yours.

You stumble a bit and leaned on him that much more for balance, taken by surprise by what you'd felt when he'd ever so marginally pushed into you. You vehemently didn't want to admit it but you were swallowing your complies as he took a step back only to grab your arm and pull you in the direction the two of you had been previously committing to with purposefully strides. Not that your gait was any deterred now nor his impeded by your hesitant steps.

"gog, come on." He groaned when the two of you finally reached the steps of the apartment and you had watched as he bounded up the slippery obstacles with no problem. You listened to the sound of his fingers making short work of the key ring he had divulged deep into his pocket to search for with success lighting his features when they'd come into contact with the icy metal keys. Finally he found the correct fit he was looking for because the door swung open with a strained groan to grant you passage.

The marginal different of the heat of the building in contrast to your previous outdoor adventure reminded you of the first night you had stumbled up those exact steps with hunger for warmth in your gaze and imbedded in your intentions. You almost began treading towards the second stairwell when you had arrived at the landing after trudging up the steps but stopped yourself promptly. You were staying at Sol's. Not Gamzee's.

"Well thanks to you the food's probably frozen." He snapped when his door had been closed (and locked, you noticed) and his scarf was being stripped from his neck in a swirl of canary fabric that landed in a heap on the mat in front of the door. He moved forward, grasping the material of his coat and shedding it from you too in a fashion that made it land among the threshold with a thump.

You tried to keep your gaze locked anywhere but his rosy cold kissed cheeks or red and blue tinted glasses however his persistent movements kept catching your attention. Like how he bent down to unite his vans before kicking there snow crusted likes away from his feet on the mat and then stooping to your own hightops. "I can take my own fucking shoes off, thank you." you stressed glancing down at him and realizing all to soon how his crouch put him eye level with your crouch. He certainly noticed, in fact you feigned interest in knowing he did this purposely.

"Whatever you say." He replied leisurely rising and snatching the plastic bag from your still quivering grasp. You watched him saunter towards the kitchen, making sure he was a safe distance away before furiously kicking off your converse and leaving them in a haphazard pile of dirty snow and icy residue. Padding across the floor after abandoning your soiled and dampened socks you eagerly glanced at the tedious display the plain white boxes obscured the steaming dubious meal within. And it smelled delicious. Aahh Take out; your favorite.

"Wonton?" he asked raising his eyebrows and reaching out to filch one out of a opened box. You honestly weren't very fond of cream cheese wontons and their puffy surroundings but that didn't stop him from shoving it in your mouth like some especially crude jest. Your eye widened and you swatted his hand away as you gulped down the horrid thing with a dissatisfied groan.

"What the hell!?" you yelled at him, anger flaring and the back of your hand wiping across your mouth. And yet again he wore that god complex expression that irked your already reproved to irate mood. He snickered at you while you quickly reached for the Styrofoam cup of coke you'd also gotten from the restaurant and took a quenching haul from it. He pulled one side of his mouth into a lopsided sneer that almost suited his slightly devilish features before replying.

"Just seeing how you react to having things shoved down your throat." And thus he received his sick pleasure in the tremendously stunned and massively mortified expression that slumped over your features. For a fleeting moment you remembered what he said about fucking him earlier and how he had definitively outlined the time therefore following that would suit him in preferable order. I mean seriously; Who the actual ever loving fuck does that? He does, you thought as he clutched his midsection as his nefarious laughter bubbled from his throat and amounted upon your anger. Retaliation was understandable, right?

"Will you shut the fuck up!" you yell at him hands coming up to shove him square in the chest with enough force to cause him to stumble back into the wall opposite that divided the kitchen/living room from his small bedroom. He was still rolling in the aisles with laughter too in fact you felt obliged to stomp forward and grip the front of his T-shirt.

"You insolent moron I said shu- aah! SOLLUX!" You howled when he decided to get even in his own way. That way being to grip your forearms before you could react turning the tables to push you against that wall he had once been leaning against. His hands moved quickly and efficiently down your arms to your wrists to pull them above your head to pin you inescapably to the wall.

Your breath caught in your throat and you had to push back a yelp of protest when his mouth came down on yours. Crudely spoken; maybe. Yet the mere fact that your protests turned into strained complies was enough get both of your blood heated. You tensed against his hold on your wrists, needing your hands and the skill they absolutely ached to get started with. But he kept you restrained; swaying forward to pin your struggles with his torso.

He pulled away momentarily for a gasp of breath you mimicked before he captured your lips with his again with a force that made your toes curl. You tried pulling your arms away from him once more, knowing his god complex was loaded to your great perilous torture. Except this time the weaker side of his resolve loosened along with his grip enough for you to escape.

The digits of your left hand promptly became tangled in his hair as the other moved to grip the back of his neck, forcing him closer. Just as quickly and with a moan low in his throat he moved his hands down your sides till he had a grip on your waist. You gave a cry of surprise when he harshly lifted you higher so that you could wrap your legs around his hips, not to be outdone.

He moaned, showing you just how satisfied with this he was before tightening his grip on your thighs and carrying you around the corner to his bedroom. This calamity was followed by you being dumped onto the surface of the bed and its heaping disarray of sheets in a smoldering, lamenting, mass. He followed you into your state of pleasure, bed creaking slightly as he mounted your hips and reuniting your desperate mouths again with a contented chuckle.

"Fuck you." you spat when he finally broke away, panting and breath and trailing his mouth down your jaw. You bit you lip against the moan threatening to break from your throat and instead tightened your grip on his T-shirt; digging your bitten nails into his back slightly. He chuckled against you throat leaving one more hickie before moving to press his lips against your ear.

"Kk?" he whispered before continuing, "It's later." He finished, reminding you for the last time about his promise to you earlier. You would have shot back some provocative rebuttal but he had just begun rolling his hips and oh my gog you couldn't think past the ecstasy threatening to pull you under. Your head fell back against the pillows as a moan tore from your throat sound eerily alone in its pleasure as it sounded in the silent apartment.

Bliss rocketed through you as he pressed his lip back over yours. But a plan had spawned in your head and a challenge had been declared by him. And more importantly, you weren't to be bested by him.

Your arms locked around his waist and your boy tensed as you flipped the two of you over. He was a hell of a lot lighter and shorter than Gamzee, thus making this endeavor tons easier and that much more effective. You sat up on his hips staring down at him before reaching forward to pluck his glasses off his surprised face and tossing them on the nightstand with a registered clatter. He raised an eyebrow hands massaging your lower back and making you shiver as you braced both your hands on the headboard for support.

You dug your nails into the wood so hard you thought it would splinter which was ridiculous of course. Yet you still tightened your grip when he moved his hands to your jeans button and decided to slowly, deliciously slowly unclasp them. Well then. If he wanted to fight dirty then so be it.

You leaned back down hands moving under his shirt and exploring the expanse of his chest as you forced your mouth back over his to stop his gasp abruptly. You lifted your hips so he could push the fabric of your skinny jeans down to your knees before you let him take them the rest of the off. Being the competitive bastard you were you reacted by hastily slipping his shirt over his head and chucking to the left somewhere.

He seemed amused, kissing you back with as much force and fervor as you did and keeping pace with your grinding. The pads of your thumbs massaged his nipples just as he pushed his hands under your T-shirt. You gave a cry of surprise when his curious hands found your ass and gave it a less than thoughtful squeeze. Nothing wrong with a bit of that you thought while roughly shifting your hips and moving your mouth into a deeper angle.

Your fingers traced down to his navel and waited a pause for him to cease his grinding for a moment so you could undo his jeans. But just as you did that he flipped you off him and pinned you back onto the bed again. You groaned as this new change yet took the opportunity to push his jeans down a bit. Not that it did that much good since the odds decided to fuck with you again.

Your cell phone started blaring its impossibly irate ringtone right as you had thought about wrapping your legs around his hips or possibly finishing your job of taking his jeans off. But nooo. Nope your cell had to shriek at you from the nightstand where you'd left it to charge the night before.

He gave an annoyed groan and buried his face in the hollow of your neck. You knew who it was. Only he had insisted you make his ringtone be that moronic carnival theme. Apparently your partner here was smart enough to guess this too.

"Just fucking answer it and tell him to piss off." He growled shifting off you and then falling on his back in the heap of blankets so you could get you cell. You squeezed your eyes shut, using one hand to massage your temple and the other to reach for the irritating device after you rolled over in its annoying direction.

Sure enough it was exactly who you thought. 'GaMzEe:o)' yeah the retarded contact name was his too. You shook your head and furiously pressed the illuminated green button while quickly bringing it to your ear.

"What in all fuck atoning lunacy has possessed you to actually thing I would answer after you've been on some dubious fucking adventure for two days without even a half assed excuse or not for wher-"

"I all up and lost my mother fucking keys, Kar-bro. And miracles hearing you rant but my bitch tits are getting in a hard twist over the motherfucking temp, here."


	6. 'Gotta Keep Fresh, huh?"

-ONE WEEK PRIOR-

Continuation of chapter.5

You stooped down to grab your jeans off the floor after kicking his T-shirt off their gray fabric. With a groan you righted yourself, deciding to play nice and kiss ass by generously tossing him his shirt that you had initially intended to ignore. He caught it, eyeing you with the most attentive glower as you slipped into your jeans and did that retard hop to affectively pull your skinny jeans to your hipbones.

You always wore them kind of low since you were already so short that your size ran a tad bit small. Added the fact that they usually fit perfectly fine because your 'buff' and 'chiseled' chest lacked in the everyday teenage testosterone fueled vigor of an adequately developed six pack. Hell no you didn't have a six pack nor did you ever think you would but you weren't nerdishly scrawny. Fuck muscles. Who needs that shit anyways?

What you did need was for that fuckass over there lacking his characteristic 3D glasses to cease his bipolar actions. One second, as you were hefting up your jeans, he was scowling at you with a blaming look of anger. The next, he's sauntering over towards you before you could protest and buttoning your jeans for you with dangerously nimble fingers. "Here, let me." He breathed index's hooking into the waistband of your skinny's and pulling you towards him.

Your hand immediately went to his forearm to steady yourself while you bit your tongue to keep form shouting any and possibly all the profanities you knew at him in a downward spiraling argument complete with explicit hand gestures and frustrated groans. He didn't seem to notice your antagonism, however, and after your zipper was sufficiently zipped and your button secured he then gave your chest an intolerably prickish pat.

Even though he then turned to exit the room with a final wink and tsk tsk you couldn't help but feel overly insulted. Hell, you knew that that had been on purpose and that, yes, he was majorly pissed at you for blowing him off to go assist your more than likely highly intoxicated roommate get through the door. It wasn't like you could just leave him outside though for Gog's sake!

Besides you still owed him, you reasoned with dread. You absolutely hated that feeling of guilt that came with knowing you were indebted to someone. It was possibly attributed to the fact that you usually never, ever, let anyone help you with anything and thus being offered the desperately needed assistance from someone had you rather cross over the subject. That and even though you were sure you should of paid a bit of rent by now, he had neglected to ask you for your share.

You jumped when a text tone alerted you to a new message that you easily guessed was from the one who had your thoughts a conflicted mass of shitty indecision. Steadying your heart rate you quickly reached for the cell you had slide into your back pocket on to flip it open and thus were thrown into an encounter of a massive wave of irritation.

"Kaarrrrrrrrrrbrroooooooo? :o) It'S pReTtY cOlD oUt HeRe, BuT tAkE yOuR tImE mOtHeR fUcKeR. I CaN hAnDlE iT"

You snapped it shut in one harsh movement that admittedly should have cracked your screen or worse, however this time you got lucky. But you knew you had to answer because if you didn't he would continue sending you irritating messages that were something of the enraging effect of your name yet spelled with a ludicrously over emphasized amount of letters or a 'HoNk' or more ':o)'. Winky if he got really impatient. ';o)'

"CALM THE FUCK DOWN. I'LL BE THERE IN LESS TIME THAN IT TAKES YOURS CLOWNY ASS TO UNSTICK YOUR FROZEN BALLS FROM THE DOORKNOB." You replied, punching in the letters a bit too forcefully yet not giving one untamable flying fuck as you returned it to your back pocket and turned the corner of the bedroom wall.

In a particularly rancorous mood sat your otherwise pissed off Gemini in no other place than on the counter; legs hanging off the surface and chopsticks firmly grasped between white knuckled digits. He took another haul from his box of Lo Mein while adjusting the intensity of his infuriated stare up a notch just to get you especially squirming. You swallowed back your slew of insults via brutally trained will power and self restraining discipline to glare right back at him.

It wasn't exactly having the effect you initially hoped to inflict nor evening the odds as you aimed for. He swallowed his mouth full of noodles before asking. "So. You staying here again tonight or there?" it was more of a statement, or so his toxic tone suggested. You bit your lip, knowing he had devised a challenging question of bros over hoes just to irritate your sour mood to intolerably irate.

After this little stunt you figured he probably would cease pestering you via text, pester chum, and somehow hacking into Gamzee's computer just to activate the webcam option and scare the living shit out of you when his cackling face filled all 20 plus inches of his shitty desktop monitor. Maybe cease wasn't the proper word for it; more along the lines as a brief hiatus as you knew it wouldn't be more than a week before he answered however for your answer, he would lack just as much patience.

"Depends what he's got himself into. That and I need lecture the fucker on not—" you broke off mid-speech as he quickly jumped off the counter, his purposefully mismatched vans hiss the floor with a thump as he turned towards the fridge. "Fuck, fine. Like I care." He shouted throwing his hands up and tossing up a poisonous glare your way. You pulled your lip to the side, scowling right back and taking absolutely no effort to keep him from his sulking.

"Sol," you began furrowing your brow and glancing hastily at the closed apartment door. Without hesitation you grabbed the front of his T-shirt and just as quickly smashed your lips over his. He had tensed, presuming you meant retribution, but one the surprised gasp had resided you felt his arms twining around your waist. He turned his head slightly for a better angle to press your lips open to allow his tongue free range. Your hold on the front of his shirt evaporated as you leaned forward into him and continued by wrapping your arms around his neck.

He pushed you back against the counter, hips knocking into yours and mouth capturing yours once more. You felt his hands playing with the hem of your shirt seconds before they moved up under and to massage your lower back. With slight annoyance you felt yourself not wanting to leave and consequently find yourself bickering with Gamzee. He probably wouldn't hear a word of it anyhow.

"Mphm, Sollux." You breathed against his mouth when he then began to lift the fabric over your head. With a yelp of protest you grabbed his forearms making him stop his work and glare at you. Ignoring him you shifted your hips attempting to weasel out of his grip unsuccessfully and only achieving a slight grin as his then began steadily massaging his hips into yours. You bit back a moan, swallowing back the noise even when he leaned down to begin a trail of hickies down your throat.

Your mouth now free you felt more than entitled to rant your displeasures about this to him. "I'm serious. I have to—oh Sol, fuck—go for a second." Faintly you felt him grinning against your throat as his hands continued their merry fucking exploration of you. He didn't answer, however, choosing instead to hook his fingers in the loops of your jeans and toy with the button.

"Captor! Will you quit—"he pulled away silencing you with his mouth and deeply kissing you with an intensity that shut you up for the time being. Your hands tightened in the material of his shirt and you gave one strained moan before coming to your senses. That annoying text tone rang out through the apartment, jarring you from your thoughts and, startled, making you jump.

He pulled away eye twitching and exhaling a rude groan that made you look up and lock eyes with him. "Holy shit…" you breathed eyes widening when you caught sight of his. Without thinking you reached up a hand to lightly press the tip of your finger to his cheek. The new expression on his face could of shattered glass and froze oceans yet you were completely oblivious.

"Heterochromia iridium." He said, glowering at you in annoyance before adding consciously. "It isn't that fucking interesting." Rolling his spectacular eyes and sighing in irritation you knew was a façade he looked away. You gaze was interrupted from his one crystal blue and other reddish brown eye. A slight blush tinted his cheeks as you raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly.

"Seriously? You're embarrassed for having different colored eyes?" you asked incredulously eyes never leaving his face even as his hand inched for your back pocket. Oblivious you shifted uncomfortably bringing your hand away from his temple and let it return to his chest. For the slightest moment you leaned back and felt the cool edge of the counter before something else caught your attention.

"What are you—" You glared at him accusingly having caught him red handed filching your cell. Groaning you shoved angrily against his chest only becoming more irate when his hand receded from your back pocket and flew high out of your reach; cell phone securely clutched in the digits. "Give that back!" you growled standing on your tip-toes and swatting angrily at his hand to no avail.

"Why? What are you going to do?" he challenged pushing you and your attempts back with one forceful shove. He grinned sadistically at you gripping your cell even tighter as a new plan formed in his head. "Wonder what Makara has to say?" he teased much to your infuriation and only furthering your exasperation to the unfortunate point of furious. Your terminally enraged disposition was beginning to emerge especially when he flicked the screen to life and proceeded to open the message.

He raised an eyebrow letting a low whistle before graciously tossing it to you. Cursing your hand shot forward to catch it seconds before he thought a wise idea to back away and watch fixedly for your response. Anticipating your reaction he crossed his arms over his chest as you glanced hurriedly at the message. When you did your mouth fell slack open and your eyes widen by lengths previously unknown to man. Sollux began a series of laughter harder than you would have thought possible and soon you saw why.

"HeY mOtHeR fUcKeR? MeMbEr Me? YeAh YoUr BoYfRiEnD mIgHt NoT bE aS HeEeEeAaArTy If YoU dOnT hUrRy It Up A bIt ;o)"

"Boyfriend!?" you exploded rereading the message twice before slamming your phone down onto the countertop with force that you actually thought may have crack it this time. Through tears of laughter the indisputably excruciating fuckass in front of you choked out "I personally enjoyed the slew about not being 'hearty'." He clutched his midsection letting out another chortle and holding onto the edge of the counter for support.

"Oh fuck you, Sollux!" you yelled, punching him in the arm and groaning loud enough to catch his attention. You promptly turned on your heel, growling and practically steaming in rage as you stomped towards his door. He made no attempt to stop you as you hastily gripped the doorknob and unlocked the door with an excessive amount of vigor. You slung the door open, taking no hesitation as you stormed through and slammed it shut. "Hey boyfriend, wait a sec—" you had indistinctly head him yell through fits of laughter that you now left behind as you took the stairs as fast as your short legs would allow.

You were almost glad to be on the a lower as it was less time that you were away from the insufferable fuckass you wanted to slap across the face and that's exactly what you intended to do when the door came in sight. With haste your fingers fiddled with the lock and bolt, a tinkering which he must have heard through the door seeing how his fist slammed into once or twice. "Shut up, will you!" You shouted as the lock slid aside and you swung the door open with what you hoped was enough force to rip it from its creaky hinges.

Instantly you felt his arms twine around you faster and tighter than you would have thought possible. You gasped when his freezing fingers lifted you off the ground and crushed you to his chest. Hiking you up his waist he kept a firm grip on your thighs while you locked your legs around him. "Gamz were the fuck have you been?!" you yelled taking him off guard and causing him to tighten his hold on you. He didn't answer only allowed a devious grin to stretch his painted features before his lips were on yours.

Your protests died in your throat and were instead replaced by a whine of release that prompted him to deepen his already abyssal kiss. His hands massage the sensitive underside of your thigh while his tongue darted past your teeth mischievously. Your fingers tangled in his grey carhart jacket before moving to cup his face. You turned your head only marginally prohibiting his furthering of the kiss till you were quivering under his touch.

"Looks pretty hearty to me." You heard a slightly angered voice retort above you. Without a second to spare you pulled away swatting at him as he tried to drag you back for another. Groaning you watched the blatant annoyance light Gamzee features as his eyes registered the figure leaning casually on the wall at the top of the stairs. You hid your face in his neck noticing weakly that smell of burned sugar and cheap cigarette smoke.

"And who's this motherfucker, hm?" he asked controlled and quiet as his eyes raked over the questionable Gemini standing at the top of the stairs. You dully registered him taking a step forward before you tugged urgently at his jacket to stop his movement. "Put me down, you fuckass." You hissed slightly humiliated at his horridly mortifying display of territorial behavior; and of you no less. You were not something to be owned.

His indigo iris' then turned upon you crimson copper ones with astonishment. You glowered up at him knowing this look you were giving him under any other circumstances would provoke him to deem you a fluster kitten. An angry Karkitty, as he would have called you but the dire serious he was met with changed the status quo. Eyes searching your face suspiciously he finally found what he was looking for.

You were rather aware that by now a descent bruise or two would have formed from Sollux—well, from earlier. That being said when his eyes rested on the reddening hickie on your neck, your ruffled hair and slightly swollen lips you were less than surprised to see the confusion turn to irritation. The side of his painted mouth twitch slightly as his eyes flicked to the lean teen at the top of the stairs.

With a low growl in his throat he complied with your demand to be released; hesitantly but never the less releasing you. Maybe a tad ungraceful but you still managed to weasel from his grip and slide down to the ground with a thump. Cheeks rosy with embarrassment and anger you promptly turned on your heel to begin stomping back up the stairs. You indistinctly remember the surprise and victory on Sollux's face and the incredulous disbelief on Gamzee's as you made your merry fucking way.

Neither uttered a sound but when you glanced back at your 'boyfriend' as he'd put it, you saw nothing but inconsolable and dejected features underlining an anger at being betrayed; shoulders slightly slumped, muscles tensed and hands balled into threatening fists by his side. However you weren't doing what he thought you were up to. In fact you weren't about to say a word to either of them.

"Good to kn—" Sol began giving you a leering sneer and uncrossing his arms from his chest to straighten up. But you interrupted with slapping the shit eating grin off his face and replacing it with his own sick entertainment. He chuckled taking in your flustered breathing and enraged expression that clearly said "I AM KARKAT FUCKING VANTAS AND I'M BLAMING ALL THIS INCREDIBLY UNFORTUNATE SHIT ON YOU." Still grinning at you and now holding his cheek tentatively in his right hand he replied to your bash and flippant outburst.

"Gotta keep me fresh, huh?" he snickered staring you down with his red eye intensely as the blue one was obscured by a wave of dark hair. He reached up to tame it to retreated behind his ear, never letting his gaze leave you. Grinding your teeth you turned promptly on your heel without another word to continue your parade of fury down the hall till you reached the next flight of stairs. You felt entirely irate. So much so that your hand gripped the rickety railing on the wall at the precipice of the stairs with shattering force. Or so it felt to you.

Shaking your head you then hung your sullied noggin in defeat; knowing neither Gamz nor Sollux would dare to comment on the conquered quota you'd adopted. It was unlike you to experience that deepening well of black anguish that decided to crawl forth sluggishly from the pit of despondence just to personally drape your furious mood into despair. There was no resolve in mockery, as you'd been taught all your life, and there was certainly no point in whining over something you yourself alone had brought on.

They were consequences. No matter how shitty and unfair they were your consequences.

"Hey…Karkat?" you felt the slow and specter presence without registering the words that lone figure might say but seconds after the unsure solace that graced your ears, you knew who it was. Knew and were certain who it was that made you grip the railing and lean against the wall for support even more heavily.

His voice was abused by hurt and faltering with caution. Wrecked to the point of tentative pleads intertwining with the undecided motivation that had all been caused by you. Because it was you who had broken his heart. It might have been the most ludicrous idea and feeble action know to man yet you simply couldn't contain yourself.

You allowed one solo sob to brutally break through your determined façade of collectiveness. The hiccupped sound hitched in your throat and imploded the dam that had been previously holding back your tears. They flowed from your ducts freely and rolled silently over the hand you had firmly slapped over your mouth. After the first drops had splashed onto the dull tile at your bare feet you squeezed your eyes closed as to not let a single tear slip through again.

You clinched your hand into a fist, knowing you deserved the pain of your bitten jagged nails digging into your palms. A warm hand gently appeared on your left shoulder blade and remained there as the second ticked by. You could sense how close he was standing, hear his faint breathing, and feel the hesitant hand inch down until his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you to him. It would be an impossible task to count the dismal seconds it took you to spin around to bury your face in that one hallow place of his chest. Indistinctly you heard the small noise that escaped his throat as you wrapped your arms around his neck and expelled a shuttering sob.

Without hesitation his arms encircled you; offering solace and helping you keep your visceral grip on reality. His hand lightly stroked your back with a tentative and gentle touch; as if you were glass and he the one capable of shattering your brittle form. Out of all context you couldn't fathom why he would be supplying kindness and consolation, especially after what you'd just done. Or been caught doing, per se.

"Shouldn't you be mad?!" you wailed into the tearstained fabric of his t-shirt. You heard the inhale of a reply as he abruptly stopped his placid caress. "Hmm, not sure." He sighed picking at the hem of your shirt absent mindedly. After mulling it over he added in an exhausted voice. "Guess I figured if you wanted Captor more than me then the last thing I wanted to experience with you…" as he trailed off as you hastily pulled back and watched his expression. Crushed and denying, he finished, looking away from your red, puffy eyes and rosy cheeks. "…wouldn't be anger over your choice…"

You felt your expression crumble and wagered he had saw it as well. You knew even though he had suddenly took deep and unwavering fascination with a spot on the ceiling as to avoid your intense gaze, he had seen it. Under any other circumstance you might laugh it off as something pulled straight from a crummy lifetime chickflick yet now it was as genuine as ever. Reaching up you tentatively cupped his jaw, bringing his eyes to stare back down into yours.

"I'm sorry…" you breathed knowing full well the damage you'd caused. Yet it could be reversed. Something as simple as the care you took in meeting his still parted lips in a blissful kiss. This time, it was unlike anything you'd ever shared with him. It was warm and slow; like molten lava rather than the blazing fire that seemed to always linger in the kisses you greedily sought. And action that was strangely pleasant yet ludicrously controlled.

It took your breath away.


	7. Progress An Escape

His arms snaked around your waist, clasping behind your back and tightening affectionately. He listened as you gradually caught your breath while nuzzling his head into the soft flesh of your stomach. You shuddered with a slight aftershock of the ecstasy that had moments ago tore through you at a sweltering speed. Through your panting and labored breathing you released a shaky laugh that quaked with your more than satisfied libido.

"You ok?" your juggalo's deep voice asked, the bass of his words resonating in your ears as a soft purr and vibrating the rib cage his face was buried in. Your hand moved to his snarled hair, tangling in the untamable dark locks and noting him to your shaking hands. Your other curious palm pressed flat against his bare shoulder, right above those rippled lean muscles.

"Yeah…more than fine, actually." You answer when he seemed to have grown a bit nervous at your silence. With a contented sigh you felt him tightening his arms around you more firmly, adjusting his hips so that you could move your legs out of the extended angle they had been poised in. Your cheeks dusted over with a rosy blush as you sluggishly brought up a hand to wipe the fresh sheen of glistening sweat from your forehead.

You were relieved he couldn't see your embarrassment. He'd never said anything to amount to stress you out over it. You just felt like you should be, simply put. For some reason you always felt that slightest inkling of mortification after you'd done, well, it. Like you wondered if he would be merely amused by the sounds you'd made or the things you'd pleaded for him to do when your mind was cloudy with a desire to be pleasured. Especially this time. He'd been…different, to be blunt. Like the sloth like haze of being high was cleared and an intense, overwhelming craving was uncloaked.

It wasn't like he had forced you to do anything which had transpired earlier, but you certainly felt like this time, he wasn't holding back. Your sore hips were undoubtedly a testament to that. Chill bumps raced across your skin just thinking about it and your body almost shuddering remembering it all. Fuck, was he amazing at sex.

Clearing your throat you blinked back your rising edgy anxiety and indolently played with his nappy hair. To your surprise he then in response gave a lazy moan of content. You leaned back against the pillows more relaxed knowing he was now at his customary perpetual ease. As standard and typically Gamzee as cloud nine was for him, that is. However, no matter how ordinary he had returned to, you weren't ready for what he said next.

He nuzzled nose gently into exposed flesh, releasing a pliable moan before whispering. "I love you…" you froze, breath hitching in your throat and eyes flying wide. You soundlessly opened your cotton dry mouth, searching for words before a single syllable pushed its way from your throat. "W-what?" your muscles tensed as turned his head to gaze up at you from where you gawked incredulously.

He blinked, focusing on you and tilting his head to the side while a small shy grin slipped onto his face. "Karkat," he hesitated gradually sliding his hands out from under you and sitting up to kneel over you. He then moved forward forearms framing your head atop the pillows and tousled hair gently whisking across your forehead. He leaned closer giving you no room to look away and forcing you to look up at him. Your fingers knotted in the sheets, yet in a completely diverse way then had earlier.

"I love you." he repeated eyes piercing yours as a sloppy grin pulled the corners of his lips up seconds before they captured yours. Lips on your he kept his eyes locked on yours only letting them fluttered closed when you did the same. You moved your arms to clasp around his neck before molding your mouth to his in a mutual kiss.

It was softer, more restricted of the intense lust yet seemingly centered on a greater passion. You inhaled his supple scent that always clung to every article of clothing you now wore. That sweet smell of burned sugar mixed with an undertone of salty smoke. You knew he worked as a bartender at some no name joint that had him working at ungodly hours. The nights he was off from mixing cheap watered down liquor with generic brand cola and supplying inebriated customers with their undoubtedly alcoholic beverage was a silent god send to you.

He broke your thoughts, pulling away and silencing your protests with an additional peck to your lips that lasted only seconds. "I don't care if you don't feel the same way or if you still pissed at me about that motherfucker, Captor, or your brother or being gone so fucking long without an excuse o-or—" you stopped him midsentence; cupping his face with your trembling fingers and silencing him with a forceful kiss.

A moan turned gravelly deep in his throat sending goose bumps dancing across your sensitive skin. You felt his knees sliding forward, suggestively bumping into the backs of your thighs as he grinned against your lips. At this you hesitantly released a shaky groan that made his hands discontinue their hasty journey down your thighs. He pulled away lightly at your protest; hurt gleaming in his indigo eyes and the tiniest flecks of fear stabbing pin needles into the violet irises.

"Y-you didn't give me a chance to reply, fuckass." You answered breathlessly and swallowing your apprehension. The expectant expression that was stretching his features could have been easily shattered. You were more aware of this now that when he had had to meet you with Sollux fucking everything up.

You vaguely wondered if he would ever consider getting violent with you but the almost inconceivable occurrence was just as quickly dismissed from your mind. He just wasn't like that…right? What he'd done to your brother was proof enough. Even though the scuffle itself had unfortunately played out at one of the most inopportune times, it was still as fresh in your mind as the present.

Every detail was still vivid as daylight in your mind's eye. It was evident to you that even though he had far from killed him, given the correct circumstances, he might just have done so. Hell for a minute there you were certain he was one crooked grin from killing you on a murder high! You bit your lip, watching as he scanned your face for every indistinctively insignificant movement as you mulled it over.

"I…Oh fuck it!" You began before a pause to bury your face in the hollow of his neck was needed. Even mumbled you knew he heard the next four infinitesimal words you whispered. "I love you, too." Your face blistered with a scarlet blush while your fingers knotted in the sheets that were pulled midway to the small of his back. Exhaling a more than relieved sigh he then fell on top of you, no longer supporting his weight on you forearms and instead wrapping them around your torso.

"Ah! Fuck, Gam—quit it!" Yelled in frustration and embarrassment as he then took to showering your face with sloppy kisses. He chuckled tightening his hold on you and pecking your lips before leaving just as many down your neck. Your struggles were rewarded with you finally pushing your way on top of him while you dug your knees into the futon, trying to escape his ecstatic fucking reaction.

"Ugh you fucking ball chafing cocklard, knock it off!" you reply when he again repeated his original confession of being in love with you. In a final attempt at escape you firmly planted your forearms on his chest and pushed away. With an amused laugh he only wrapped his legs around your hips, leisurely crossing his knees behind you. Twisting your features into a façade of annoyance you hurriedly composed a devious distraction.

"Makara. I hate you." you hissed just audible enough for him to pause and search your face for the evident lie he just as soon found. Expression lighting with glee he answered, "You're a horrible liar, little motherfucker." Your brow furrowed in actual irritation at being made so quickly and without so many fireworks going off as you'd intended.

"Fuck you. I am not!" You reply breathlessly as a grin dazzles you from his paint smudged face. He watches you roll you eyes before releasing you from his smothering hold and letting you sit up. You plopped down rather inconsiderately on his hips, taking pride in the grimace you earn. Defiantly crossing your arms over you shirtless chest unconsciously you stare down at him as he leisurely displays his ease by folding his arms behind his head.

"Well," he begins dramatically pulling his mouth to the side in a lopsided grin. "your just in denial." Your mouth falls open in mock distaste that makes his smirk stretch further across his face. Raising an eyebrow you give a questioning "oh?" before added high and mighty voice laden with disbelief. "Am I really?"

"shhh! And toss me the fucking butter knife!" you hiss as impatiently as possible while remaining incognito to all those within hearing distance. If was rather difficult though, seeing how the asshole of an impatient juggalo beside you kept humming off key Metallica. You groan, turning around and shoving at his chest to no avail. "That is not how 'Enter Sandman' goes, dumbass!"

He only grins his slipshod little smile at you for the thousandth time that evening. You had to admit that yes his sloppily casual smirks made your heart twinge in that girly melodramatic way that made your manly manhood conflicted. Well. You were dating a guy.

Shaking the thoughts from your head you watching as he lifted his hand to snatch the protruding handle of the glinting butter knife from his pocket. This wouldn't be the first time you panhandled your window open. It took meticulously God forged celestial steel to pry those edgy hinges loose. Or a butter knife. Either way the formidable challenge was only to be met by a solemnly severe tool of grandiose origin. Like a butter knife.

"Neeeeeddd any help?" he asked languidly, looking over your shoulder as you bent to pry away at the window seal. The window lacked bars, thankfully, as it was on the fifth floor and wasn't threatened by neither robbers nor intruders. You turned your head to glare at him from over your shoulder, blowing a strand of your bangs from your face as you did so.

You were met with the glorious sight of an eyeful of jean seams. Why was it that on your knees, stereotypically, you were eye level with his crotch? You could have sworn whatever god was out there had a serious grudge against you. "Actually I'm fine, Gamzee. Mind backing the fuck up? Kind of distracting me." he grinned again raising his hands in a mock gesture of surrender and taking a dramatic step back till his back hit the railing of the emergency fire escape you'd both climbed to.

Precarious as the rickety and furthermore dangerously rusty ladder was, you trusted it would hold. If your Sir Lardass LandLord, one floor directly above, could jostle around on his landing while taking a haul from his chain smoking without sending the entire structure plummeting to earth then the fire escape could handle anything. Or so you figured smugly.

He was your primary fear at the moment. That he might develop a hankering for a cig and journey to his platform for a smoke only to discover you. It was your window, yet he still preached nonchalantly that you weren't allowed to use it. Whatever. It had aided to your desperate escape from all things violent via brutal father or perverted brother more than once. You felt more than inclined to use it as you pleased.

You shivered in the light hoodie you wore, leaning your forehead against the frosted window pane and noting the way it fogged over with your light breathing. You could just see inside, your thick black room darkening curtains cracked open to allow you a solo teasing view of you bedroom wall and the infinite posters that plastered it. It only made you all that more edgy to get inside.

With a silent hail you jimmied the rusted clasp open and chucked the slightly bent butter knife to the side. It'd done its job splendidly. "Could you help me get this shit open? Something fucking blocking it." You grunted bracing your numb fingers on the sill and pulling it upwards with all your conceivable might. "Here, I got mother fucking got this, Kar-bro." Gamz answered, setting a hand on your shoulder that made you bolt out of the way.

Bending over he ledged one hand on the sill and the other bracing his knee. Heaving against the window he effortlessly budged it open in one easy move. You glowered at his triumphic grin as he continued to hum another tune that made you want to slap his stupid grin off his face. "S'not how 'The Unforgiven' goes either…" you grumbled scrambling to your feet and lightly shoving him aside.

"After you." he stated gesturing to the window victoriously as you glare intensified. "shh! There might be—" his façade of triumph vanished as he slapped a hand over your mouth and pointed one lazy index skywards. Glancing up just in time to see your landlord window slide open you crouched down and shimmied through the open window in record setting seconds. Just as soon as you'd landed in a heap on your cement floor did you watch him a little ungracefully fold himself through the window. Being a lean giant apparently wasn't all it cracked up to be when busting into windows at ungodly hours of the night.

Grunting he turned to push the window closed with a crunch of chipped paint. Hurriedly getting to a standing position your jaw dropped when you saw what was once your room you shared with your brother. "That fucking dickweed…" you trailed off into silence as you kicked aside a tennis shoe and balled your hands into fists. You then bent to snatch a pillow off the floor and toss it in your silent clown's direction.

He stood waiting and wordless, knowing at the moment you were so exceedingly pissed that all you really required to cool down would be a bit of space. You kept grumbling every and all the insults you could think of as you picked around your room. Aiming to collect a few clothes and pleasantries, you hadn't exactly thought that your brother would run a tornado through your room. You figured he had been searching for any clue as to how to find you just as you knew he would find none.

Kicking open the closet door you were met with the horrid odor of stale beer that only angered you that much more as you grabbed your boots out of the shoebox you'd been smart enough to keep. Reaching on your tip toes you also pilfered on the top shelf until your finger met the spare backpack you had used all through highschool. Furiously unzipping the rucksack and angrily shoving the black knee high combat boots into your pack you then grabbed three T-shirts off their hangers, jeans, and a another hoodie that you added to your back pack.

You turned to stomp over to your desk, slipping your ipod charger into your pocket as well as grapping your two favorite murder mystery novels and silently begging one of the detectives within their fantastical plots to save you. They didn't have time for you though, now did they? They were far too busy perpetually rescuing potential victims and offering families sweet retribution while you were here stomping around your wrecked room like a tantrum throwing five year old.

"You ok?" Gamzee tentatively asked from the spot by the window he'd been rooted to every since you decided to go into a necessary rage. Your shoulder sagged as you slung the strap of your pack over your already aching shoulder and trudging over to him with your head down. Defeated you then resolved to dropping the bag and letting it hit the floor with a solid thump before you buried your face in his chest. His arms automatically wrapped around you, pulling you closer and rubbing your back with solace.

"ssshhh, it's alright…I got you…" he whispered into your scalp while providing you with the consolation you so desperately needed. You hands balled up in the fabric of his coat as you bit your tongue and ground your teeth. You'd resolved to ceasing all this crying in front of him yet it seemed that now that you had finally found someone to confide in, it would be a hard luxury to wean.

Taking in a shaky breath you just as quickly shoved away from him, breaking the supportive embrace with a strained sob. "I-I fine. Stay here a second though." You said while furiously rubbing a fist in your eyes. His concern for you was expressed through a worried frown and a small gesture towards your bag. "Alright. I'll just all up and wait here, bro." he added with a small smile to reassure you.

Swallowing your irritation at him treating you as if you were glass was rather difficult, you realized as you turned with a sigh. Easing your muscles you reached for the lose doorknob that secured the equally as precarious door to swing it open with less than gentle force. Your eyes adjusted to the dimmer light almost immediately even though you scarcely needed your trusty vision to navigate these halls. They had been your faithful purgatory day in and day out for years. Their vigorous revulsion for you was no doubt authentic.

"Just make it quick…" you whispered to yourself as you made a left into the cramped room that served as the kitchen and den even though the rickety folding table had never seen anything more than a TV dinner or cold bowl of Ramon's. By reflex you glance dodgingly at the revolting navyblue recliner that sat positioned in front of a just as shitty television. An accompanying coffee table stood guard near it, housing everything from empty beer bottles and chip bags to porn magazines and a Folgers tin brimming with cigarettes.

There was one solo window to the left of the room, right near the wall that divided the second bedroom—your dad's humble oasis—and the den you were gawking nauseatingly at. The door was open and inviting you to glimpse the innards of the room. You brought a hand to your mouth to keep the threatening vile down while leaning against the eggshell pallid wall unsteadily. The elusively disgusting room had housed many horrors to which a father should have never exposed a son too. Memories that once more had white rage and stinging acid tears tingeing your eyes.

Your gaze swept from it as fast as possible, understandably. Instead you glanced at the dusty china cabinet that surprising enough had yet to see a pawn shop. Your lower lip trembled as you reached a quivering hand to the slightly rusted handle that you faintly remembered to of once been faultlessly polished brass set into mahogany stained wood. It had once been. Years ago when your mothers celestial guidance had brightened its workings and beamed throughout the household.

You figured it best not to dwell on such hideous nostalgia. Even if that resolution was mostly likely what contributed to your continuous anger. That antagonism also caused you to swing the door of the cabinet open and just as unmercifully snatch the framed picture from its once permanent cage. You grunted with the effort of smashing the wooden frame and stealing the solo photo from it. Without even allowing yourself one look at the genuinely beaming occupants of the image you hastily folded it and then shoved it deep into the recesses of your pocket.

You left the cabinet's door wide open as well as the fractured frame in ruins at your feet on the dull linoleum. Taking a deep breath from the constricting air you turned back towards your former room before stopping frozen in your tracks. Your heart skipped a beat and sent needles of astonishment stabbing through your chest. "Karkat…?" your head snapped back to the kitchen and landing on the haphazard figure gawking at you from under a Mets cap.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened. The man took one tentative step forward gesturing to you with a threatening hand before shouting. "Where the hell have you been?!" you stumbled back at his advance, eyes darting to your bedroom door and back to your father standing in the kitchen in front of the open apartment door. His frazzled cloudy brown eyes glanced to the now empty cabinet with realization lighting there muddy irises.

Finally having the courage to take your mothers picture from its requiem confinement was his cue; his sign that you were sincerely leaving without a single intention of returning. In all the times you'd fled to a friend's residence or sought refuge in a cheap motel, you'd never found the guts to take it. Therefore, you found it constantly acted as a steely tether and dependably brought you back with a seductively insane grin. But now that you'd rescued yourself as well as it, your leash was broken.

"Gam! Run!" you scream with the seemingly nonexistent air in your compressed lungs. It took you nanoseconds to turn and bolt for your room; to escape the graying persecutor and his advancing last attack. Your hands shoved open the door to your old room in record setting seconds that alerted the one occupant even before your previous words alerted him to the impending assault.

"What's going on?" he replied as you slammed the door closed. His muscles tensed as he took in your panicked expression and shaken frame. "Just fucking GO!" you shouted in a commanding plea that had him slinging your backpack over his shoulder and striding to the window without question. As he hurriedly persuaded the stubborn window open once more you glanced around, double checking and knowing you where never to return here again.

You kicked aside the already over turned mattress against the door and decided that the only sentimental item that had even been worth taking was the led photo in your pocket. Anything else was replaceable somehow; clothes could be bought and personal luxuries restored later. Lives however…

"Come on I've got the windo—" he was interrupted by the shattering bang of fists assaulting the door as well as the rancorous shouting of a owner losing purchase of a pet. You flinched involuntarily, taking a handful of steps toward the window without further ado. You stole one embarrassed grimace at Gamzee finding a rage filled bloodlust plastered onto his features that made your own inkling of fear squeal.

"Don't. Listen, he's not even fucking worth it. Believe me I know." You tell him in a hushed urgency as you place one firm hand on his chest to steady his increasing fury. His provoked rage turned to you as he then grabbed the front of your hoodie in an iron fist. "That's NOT your fucking dad. Do you even hear what the fuckers calling you?!" he shook you while pointing at the door wildly and searching your fearful features.

"Gamzee, stop!" you yell in reply grabbing at his hands and noting the anger that caused them to quiver. You felt his attempts to shake some sort of gratifying sense into you cease as the antagonism flooded from his face. His teeth ground together and his eyes hardened into fierce stone as he then wordlessly hooked his hands under your arms. You yelped in alarm as he helped you forcefully through the window before shoving your backpack into your arms.

With one infuriated glance at your door and the figure assaulting it he braced himself on the sill to pull his weight on to escape outside. He reached for your arm to help hoist himself out and then swung out on the paint chipped and rusty fire escape. Thankful for his cooperation and a hasty exit you moved towards the ladder on the far side of the confined landing.

You jumped when the weight of your backpack suddenly evaporated from your arms and was just as soon shifted to your accomplices own back. After reassuring yourself that he was in fact coming with you and harbored no urge to back track back to your apartment and kill your father you mounted the ladder. Your hands were rusty raw from the icy rugs of the ladder when your feet finally dropped the some five feet to the awaiting asphalt.

Your eyes then flew to the juggalo who had grown impatient and decided to skip the last landing and thus plummet the remaining ten feet to the hard ground you now stood on. He didn't even flinch, choosing instead to literally hit the ground running. His grabbed your freezing hand in his before pulling you along with as he took off down the littered alleyway. Dumpsters shared the abandoned alley with soiled cardboard boxes and various other debris that had washed from the questionable drainage pipe on the far side.

You left all those things behind as he led you to the desolate street that was lit by a forlorn streetlight that cast an eerie yellow hue over all that the light pooled over. Like the credulous outdated ford bronco parked unskillfully yet conveniently at the mouth of the alleyway. Even more opportunely was the fact that the engine was running and the doors unlocked. You hadn't even known Gamzee had owned a car, much less been capable of driving. Even if his lackadaisical driving left your nails digging into the seat.

His hand left yours to clutch the door handle and swing it open for you to scramble into. You didn't even have time to buckle up for his extravagant get away before he was rightfully seated in the drivers seat and gunning the engine. Speeding down the street and putting as much road behind you as possible reassured you significantly. However never more so as the warm palm that silently slipped into yours as you pulled your legs up against your chest and leaned back into the worn leather seats.

"Remember what I said earlier?"

"…yeah?"

"I love you so much…"


	8. Something Akin to Confessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is that I am deeply, deeply sorry for not posting sooner. Intermissions was, if I might say, on an intermission of the sorts. However, my writing hiatus has come to what I hope is a close. The stress of everyday life asked too much of me and therefore I found myself drifting from my writings and dulling down what I had previously taken up as a delightful hobby. None the less, I am trying vehemently to update my current works more regularly now and only thank you for your patience whilst asking you for your forgiveness in my otherwise infrequent posts.

Fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie and munching anxiously at your nails had become your sacred pattern for the past eighty-three hours. Fuck, had it been that long? It’d been a constant nagging that had yet to recede into the recesses of your mind like a docile issue and now drove you to quailed lunacy. Or so you’d deemed it.  
It was something like madness, honestly, not knowing if something wicked this way came, indeed. Now you had the fortune of two homicidal lunatics out for your blood. But your father alone could do worse than come find you. It was beyond question your brother had told him were you’d been hiding; if he could remember.   
Your brother? No doubt he’d returned once his petty sentence was over. You wished he’d rot in jail with those convenient domestic charges. Psh, more like premeditated murder, you scoffed. Not that they had taken you too seriously seeing how you’d pleaded self-defense. But Gamzee? At least he hadn’t been high when they’d taken his statement at reasonable length after taking one look at your brother’s head.   
That and the fact that the both of you had rushed out of the station when your fathers looming presence was requested. You may have been kin but there was no way in hell you planned on helping either of their sorry asses out. It wasn’t as if they could convict you of anything and you hadn’t even told them about the beatings your father or brother had given you. Or the…other things they’d done.  
Besides, the bruises where gone now; faded from black to purple to blue to yellow. Now your only sign of domestic dispute was the slightly irritated skin of your throat from when you’d been strangled. It seemed to you that once one bruise healed another would come just as quickly.   
It wasn’t exactly fair, you’d concluded, that your only living family hated you so much. It made you miss your mother. It made your fist clench tighter around the photograph that would bring tears to your eyes with one glance. You’d taken it from your old apartment the day you and Gamzee had snuck back in to grab a few of your possessions.   
The sight of your father—the last time you’d ever see him—still burned fresh in your mind; beady eyes focusing on you and muscles tensing while you took the picture from the frame. It had been the only photo of your mother in the apartment and what you’d sought after most when you’d told Gamz you wanted to go back. You didn’t think that there would ever be another chance.  
“Kar-bro…?” that voice, graveled and deep, interrupted your despondent thoughts tentatively. Closing your eyes and pursing your lips you felt his arms snake around your waist and pull you back into him. His lips pressed softly to the flesh of your throat and warmed your whole being. He just had that effect on you; making everything negative seem better.  
Your quivering hand slowly closes over his as he knots his in the fabric of your hoodie. Your fingers interlace and he squeezes them reassuringly and your lungs fill with the sweet smell of him. The goose bumps that bristle against your flesh causes a satisfied smile to light his lips as he explores your throat and finds that hallow at your ear. God, he makes you shiver.  
“I-I’m not in the mood…” you say through your teeth as wonderfully curious hands move farther around your abdomen, pulling the zipper of your hoodie down with them. Swallowing you stare down at your own T-shirt as his slim fingers hook in your belt loops. The sharp intake of breath that comes from your throat is caused by that fucking juggalo too.  
His teeth had grazed the sensitive flesh at your collarbone once he’d nuzzled your jacket away and now he left sweet nips along the exposed area. You noticed he had been behaving like that lately; gentle and tentative with you as if your bones were glass. He’d barely kissed you much less slept with you for the duration of your anxiety fueled paranoia over your father and brother.   
It was infuriating in a way. He wasn’t treating you the same as he used too. No hot surprises or steamy tricks to put you off your guard nor sudden chaos to spark your anger. It almost made you sick, watching him restrain himself like this and all for what he thought your injured state needed. Or maybe he thought you’d be scared of him what with how he’d…handled your brother.  
“Gamz…?” you ask with a dark leer tinting your voice that had him slowing down instantly. When you shift on your feet, his arms loosen and allow you to leisurely spin around to face him. While your fists ball up in the fabric of his sweater he slips his hands into your back pockets and pulls you closer against him.   
Leaning into his warmth and burying your face into the hallow of his neck was comfortable when his steady heartbeat thrummed low in your ears with his deep breathing. As your eyes fluttered closed, you realized the silence was bliss between you too. Too bad it was merely temporary.   
Pulling away you pushed lightly against his chest to urge him to release you from his embrace, however serene. With the guilt on your shoulders, the intimacy felt forced. Something hadn’t been right within you for some time since your brother had found you; had tried to end your ineffectual existence. It was that thing that had been nagging at you without cease.  
“Did you go after my fucking brother? I know I never told you where I lived. But you drove right too it like you’d been there before and you thought of bringing the knife for the gog damned window.” You hated saying it and ground it out through tight lips. Maybe you’d just been brooding over this too long and had progressively overreacted.   
But where had he gone those days when staying with the Gemini downstairs seemed like a simple compromise for boredom? Was he out tracking your brother on some dubious high? Maybe your paranoia had led you to believe these things or create your own lies. And maybe you had imagined the way his body tensed against yours and face fell like a child caught red handed.  
“Did you?!” you ask again, forcing yourself to stay controlled yet knowing your temper was rising. It felt like something ethereal that was swiftly transcending to something wholly wordly. It was the way he was staring at you; as if he expected you not to call him out over this even if you’d figured it out. His mouth pressed into a hard line and stayed that way even as you shrugged his hands from your shoulders. Gog, what was happening?  
“Just—fuck—if you were trying to protect me or some shit…” you wished he would say something to make you stop and reassure you that everything was in fact just plain fucking dandy. You wanted it to be; in fact if your false confidence wasn’t fueled by anger then you just may have given up on outing him. You left it to him to tell you that you were crazy. Except he wasn’t. Turning your face away and stepping out of his reach was agonizing, but watching him allow you to walk away was far worse.  
“You wouldn’t tell me how that heartless motherfucker hurt you.” he says just when your eyes were starting to sting and face beginning to heat. He’d said as if you’d completely understand his justification. True, he’d asked, but at the time you hadn’t wanted to tell him. It was…mortifying and made you feel like trash, thinking about your own treatment. That was how you had been treated; like trash. If it weren’t for his therapeutic coddling you’d have firmly deemed yourself nothing more than trash weeks ago.  
“I just wasn’t ready…” the words scarcely escape your lips before he takes a step toward you quietly, hesitantly as if not to spook a frightened animal. It took all your residual strength to quickly move back out of his reach when he’d reached for you; the frightened animal recoiling. The pain etched into your features was something he couldn’t stand to see yet his false solace was something you couldn’t bare to hear.   
“Karkat, just hear me out—” he moved to grasp your forearm but you’d pulled away once more. Your movements weren’t as fluid as his and seemed erratic—panicked. When you felt the small of your back hit the countertop behind you a gasp escaped your tightening throat and for slightest second fear lit in your crimson flecked eyes. Had he seen it?   
“Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.” he begs eliminating the distance between the two of you and placing his slender hands on either side of your face. His pleading was as weighted as the resolve that settled within you. It was something akin to confessing, you realized, when he not asked too much of you; begged you to forgive him for a transgression that you found wholly incriminating.   
With your features marring into a disagreeing grimace, he then pulls his own face level with yours and forces you to look up at him. To gaze upon his sculpted nose and the smooth plains of his cheeks you’d seen hallowed when his supple lips closed around a cigarette. To bask in the glory that was this juggalo’s confession to objectifying your privacy and blast open the confines of your less than savory home endearment.   
It left you raw within, knowing that he had searched through your salvaged things for a means to meet his end. Somehow, it distanced you from him as if you were being suspended above him to watch dust collect on your relationship from afar. Frankly, one might call this feeling anger however personally, you might call this feeling betrayal.   
Swallowing back your hot, angry tears you moved your hands to secure a firm hold on his forearms as if grasping him as tightly as he gripped you would persuade him to release you. Almost desperately, you wished he would release you and take it back. You could lie to yourself—you’d done it for years when it concerned your welfare—and convince yourself that he acted in your, honest to god, best interest.  
“The bruises…I couldn’t just all up and let someone get away with that shit.” He was standing up for you and trying to protect what he loved, you told yourself. It was out of sincere concern for your safety and he hadn’t known your brother would follow him back here. How could he? That naivety hadn’t been his fault and certainly couldn’t have been his intentions.   
You’d never had someone do that for you; feel that for you. It made the bruises, cigarette burns, and healed bones hurt less. That unconditional love was a foreign feeling that you thought you’d never have the fortune of having again. As if you were cut off and undeserving of such, as it were. Your mother used to make you feel this way; like the mean bullies at school that were so much bigger than you weren’t quite so formidable when she held you.   
Her love was something you knew few experienced yet resolved yourself to never finding such adoration again. Could you relate the love you felt for her to the love you’d felt for him? Honestly, you knew Gamzee was always genuine if not forthright. That was admirable. The solace felt mutual and nostalgia overcame you.  
He honestly loves you, doesn’t he?  
“I just wish you would have told me, fuckass.” You grumble, averting your eyes and wanting him to look away too so you could wildly blush like a naïve schoolgirl in private. Embarrassment could be just as strong of a catalyst for blushing as please or anger. But unexpectedly, you felt his breath against your cheek and swiftly found yourself almost welcoming the lips that softly pressed against yours. Almost welcoming. He had yet to stop treating you like you’d shatter any moment.  
Without his notice, one of your hands slipped from his forearm and smacked his face hard enough to leave an angry red handprint. The sound of it all was almost as angry as you had previously felt. He pulls away startled and wide eyed to put his fingertips to his cheek delicately. You narrowed your eyes and watched him open his slack jaw mouth to attempt to form words out of his confusion.  
“Stop treating me like I’m fucking glass, jackass.” You spit smacking his remaining hand from your face—although not as harshly as you’d struck his face—and crossing your arms over your chest defiantly. You had to admit that slapping him had felt damn good and the expression plastered to his features was priceless. It wasn’t the retribution you insanely craved, but it did offer some sort of compensation.   
“You’re one cute as hell motherfucker, you know that?” he says, instantly jogging your memory. The first thing he’d said to you weeks ago when a space heater and bowl of Raymen’s was your highest priority. Standing outside his door and praying to whatever gods were out there that he’d let you in, no matter if he was a seemingly drug addicted stranger.   
It made your cheeks light with the same scarlet that it had back then and heart skip a beat just the same. Fuck, you hadn’t know a single thing about him back then and thought he was little more than perverted lunatic with a clown fetish. He was a calamity that wouldn’t wait to unfold and your will to survive had blinded your concerns for becoming collateral.   
But now? Now you’d grown accustomed to the outlandish paint and precariously placed horns around the apartment. Perhaps the territorial and protective tendencies were as much a part of him as the paint. You didn’t mind the fact that his spacey attitude was a direct cause from whatever he earned his high from. Somehow, you’d yet to see him smoke or use whatever the loving fuck it was he took to adopt the cloud nine gaze. Maybe he was just like this?   
Maybe you’d just adjusted to waking up past noon with him and going out for take out meals. His work hours no longer bothered you either even if he woke you up at those shy hours past midnight when the bar closed. However he always made sure to make those early morning snooze interruptions worth your while. He wasn’t too bad now was he, you’d concluded.   
“Oh, fuck off, Makara.” You chide sarcastically as his hands move to rub your sides soothingly. You relished the deep reverberations of his sigh deep within his chest. Your eyes move to search his face as your blush dies down. Why did you always find yourself blushing around him anyhow?   
“I’m sorry…” he says moving he face forward till he rested his chin against your clavicle. You didn’t particularly mind how he would bend to your height to bury his face there. You could feel his eyes close as his eyelashes brushed softly against the sensitive flesh of your throat. Sequentially, his arms rap around your waist and pull you against him thoughtfully.   
“What are we supposed to do about my dad and brother? Fuck I mean, my best friend lives in Houston h-he might let us…” he’d pulled away lazily to turn a just as languid indigo gaze on you. His eyes held resolution and fierce determination. It was straightforwardly reassuring somehow. As if without words he was firmly promising he’d protect you. Conveying what words failed to that you needed fear your family anymore and that, furthermore, they weren’t your family anymore. He was your family now. Wholly, lovingly your family.  
“I love you, remember?”


End file.
